


The Only Love Gods

by distractionpie



Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Asexual Character, Biased narrators, Bickering, Crushes, Developing Relationship, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Immaturity, M/M, Matchmaking, Miscommunication, POV Multiple, Pining, Pranks, Shakespeare Inspired
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-11
Updated: 2017-04-11
Packaged: 2018-10-17 15:42:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 35,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10597116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/distractionpie/pseuds/distractionpie
Summary: The new semester has brought David Webster back to campus after a year studying abroad, and  the time apart has done nothing to reduce his bickering with Joseph Liebgott, never mind that it's driving all of their respective housemates up the wall. Meanwhile, freshman Babe Heffron’s crush on Eugene Roe is tragic to watch, especially since Roe claims to be following senior honour student Carwood Lipton’s apparent example on dating – just don’t. But George Luz has decided this is a year for romances, and he and his friends have plans that are going to make everyone’s love lives better; or at least more entertaining to watch.





	1. Chapter 1

People have been wandering in and out of the Messina house common room all morning, so Joseph Liebgott doesn't really care when George Luz wanders in and settles himself on the couch between Bill Guarnere and Bill's new pet ginger kid, who may or may not be related to him. Then Toye drops the other end of the box they'd been hauling through to the kitchen in order to go chat, so Joe decides that actually he can be a little annoyed by Luz making a distraction of himself. He could get all of plates into the kitchen by himself if he had to, but hell if he's going to be the only one doing any work while everyone else is slacking off and gossiping.

He abandons the box on the floor - if somebody falls over it, well it's their own fault for not looking where they're going - and drops down onto one of the beanbags.

It takes Toye less than half a minute to invite Luz along to the moving in party they're planning, as if Luz wouldn't have turned up anyway, and then Malarkey starts pushing Luz to invite everyone else in his house along too, because nothing makes a party awesome like inviting a bunch of random people along without even checking who they are first, which Joe is fast to point out. "You're still in P, right?" he asks, “Who’ve you even got now that Buck and Bull have graduated?” Messina house has stayed pretty intact, but Joe knows that’s a rare thing when people are constantly moving in with friends or changing schools or even graduation.

“Dick and Nix again, and Lip’s back too,” Luz says, counting off on his fingers. “We’ve got Roe and also a new medic, some Philly guy," he waves to Bill and Bill's ginger, "You’ll probably know him-”

“Yeah because we know every single person from Philly ever.” Bill scoffs but Joe honestly doesn’t think that sounds unlikely.

“Yeah, I know, it’s creepy,” Luz agrees. “Uh, there’s another freshman, Hoobler, he seems cool. Oh, and Webster is back from his European exchange.”

Oh for fucks sake, there goes the hope the guy would’ve transferred to Harvard or somewhere and not subjected them to his presence again. Apparently, Joe's disappointment is clear on his face because several of the guys laugh and Malarkey says, “Yeah, yeah, we know Lieb. You were hoping he’d fall off an alp or something.”

In truth Joe’s wishes were closer to hoping he’d decide to study in Europe forever and never come back to America ever again, but falling off a mountain would also have been pretty satisfying. Webster seems like the type who’d ski, it could happen. “He’s so stuck up. All that shit he used to say about turning down Ivy league to have the experience of a regular guy at college, I mean what the fuck? And then he just goes fucking off to Europe for a year – you don’t see anybody else ditching like that so what was he even trying to do?”

“It was like two years ago he said all that, why do you even still care?” Luz asks.

He’s backed up, not all that unexpectedly, by Toye, the traitor. “You said plenty of stupid things as a freshman too.”

"Yeah, but I stopped, Webster just got worse." He can see Muck roll his eyes but whatever, Joe knows it's true and he's damn sure that a year in Europe will have made Webster even more of a prissy swot. He turns his attention to Luz. "Why would you want him at a party? He’s so uptight and stuffy."

"He's not that bad," Luz says, which is a blatant lie. "And I can hardly go around and say 'everyone is invited except you Web, I want you to stay at home on your own' you weirdo."

"I don't see why not," Joe mutters, but everybody ignores him in favour of listening to Muck’s bullshit story of what he did over the break. A highly implausible tale about going over Niagara in barrel or something.

They catch up a little longer before Luz stands up to leave and Bill cuts in, "Oh, hey, are you headed back over to your place? Because Babe needs to get one of his finance forms signed at the enrolment office, so somebody needs to show him the way over there." Babe doesn't look like he particularly agrees with the statement, but doesn't put up much of a protest which Bill chivvies him off under Luz's direction. Watching Bill mother-henning the freshman is just weird, and Joe is grateful when Toye gets back to sorting out their boxes and ropes Guarnere into helping him, freeing Joe up to check Facebook on his phone. Third top item on his newsfeed is some freshman's check in post that's got all of the Padua house guys tagged in it, including Webster which mean's Luz's bad news is confirmed. Joe is a little surprised Webster doesn't think he's above such common things as Facebook, but then again, he’d definitely like being able to show off pictures of him gallivanting around Europe to all those lowly people who just stay at college instead of taking off on glorified vacations.

Joe hovers his finger over the link to Webster's profile for a moment, tempted to confirm his suspicions, but if anybody could make Europe boring it would be Webster - there's probably just a bunch of pictures of buildings and signs and historical facts. It would be so typically Webster.

He scrolls on.

 

*****

 

As unsure as Babe is about being sent off on adventure across campus with a total stranger, he's still a little glad to be getting out from under Bill's uninvited mentoring. He's pretty sure his mom and Ma Guarnere talked to campus housing, but he's also not ruling out that Bill requested Babe himself for the express purpose of being a nuisance. He was grateful when Bill promised to keep an eye on Babe to assure his mom's fears about her youngest going off to college so far away, but he's hoping like hell Bill doesn't actually try to follow through on the offer. They'd arrived early, been on campus nearly a week, and this is the first time Babe has had more than 10 minutes away from Bill. It’s not exactly what he was looking for from a college experience.

Hanging out with Bill's buddies isn't the best way to fix the situation, but it’s still an improvement and Luz seems cool and invites Babe into Padua house in order to introduce him to the guys that live there, which means if they come along to the party Babe might have people to talk to that aren't Bill.

The place looks pretty similar on the inside to Messina house, although there are fewer rivalling sports team pennants decorating the walls - instead there are mismatched bookshelves that look to have been assembled by someone with a pretty limited ability to follow diagrams.

Luz enters his own common room and announces himself with the same enthusiasm he'd shown over at Messina even though there are only two guys sitting on one of the couches and a third standing by the coffee table transferring a heap of food from several split carrier bags into undamaged ones.

"Everyone this is," Luz pauses and turns to Babe. "Um, I didn't get your name. Bill only called you Babe, which... I'm pretty sure his girlfriend could take you in a fight so..."

"Yeah she could." Babe has no issue admitting Fran is fiery and if he ever crossed her she’d kick his ass, she and Bill are well suited to each other. "But it's Babe, on account of being the baby of both my family and the group of guys I hung out with back home, plus my having the same name as too many other guys in our neighbourhood. Heffron’s okay too, but it'd just be weird if people started calling me Edward now."

Luz shrugs. "Right, well this is Bill's buddy Babe, who's the new guy in Messina. Babe, that's Webster and one of our own freshmen Hoobler over on the couch, Lip's the guy sorting all the groceries – seriously man, hang on a second and I’ll help you out with those –, and I don't know where the hell everyone else has got to."

"Roe's at the library and Spina's getting set up with student health," offered the taller of the two guys on the couch. Babe isn't sure if this is the same Webster that seemingly had a mortal enemy in Joe Liebgott, but he is wearing a scarf even though they’re indoors which would certainly match up to Liebgott's accusation of pretentiousness.

"Winter and Nix split off from me at the grocery store,” the guy sorting groceries says, “Nix wanted to head to a proper liquor store and Winters went to keep him in check."

The other guys in the room laugh at that and Babe smiles along a little awkwardly. He guesses it would be funny if he knew who the heck they were talking about.

"Oh, good news,” Luz announces, “Messina have already started planning for the first party of the term so we're all invited over to theirs tomorrow night."

Probably-Webster pulls a face, supporting Babe's suspicions.

"Do we really want to go all the way over there?" Webster asks. "I'm pretty sure it's forecast to rain, and their parties aren't that good."

Luz scoffs. "David Webster you goddamn liar! Hoobler don't listen to him. Messina throws the best parties on campus - you never, ever turn down an invite to one of their parties or you'll miss out on all the awesome. Plus, if they're hosting the party can get wild without us having to worry about cleaning up afterwards."

Lip frowns a little. "We're not going to trash their place Luz."

"Sure we aren't, but y'know, parties get messy. Anyway, none of those guys care."

Webster sighs. "It's still the same guys as before then?"

Luz nods. "Pretty much, uh... Meehan dropped out or something and Welsh has moved in Martin's room now, since Martin wanted his own place, but I'm pretty sure Harry is basically planning on living with his girlfriend this year, so I don’t- well anyway... the usual guys, and they have Babe here now," he adds, clapping Babe on the shoulder.

"So Toye, Guarnere, Muck, Malarkey, Penkala and Liebgott all stayed? And the place hasn't burned down?" This is definitely the same Webster that Liebgott was complaining about, Babe isn't always the best at reading people but nobody said someone's name in the tone Webster used for Liebgott's unless there was history there.

"They aren't all bad," Lip defends. "There's certainly worse houses on campus. And they've all matured a lot while you've been gone. Last year was one hell of a year."

Webster doesn't look particularly convinced and mutters something about delinquents and troublemakers, which Luz then objects to.

From beside him on the couch Hoobler catches Babe's eye with a grimace. It seems Babe isn't the only one feeling awkward about walking into so much established drama. Fortunately, Web and Luz's bickering is interrupted when the door swings open with a loud creak. They should really get some WD-40 on that.

The guy who walks in is carrying a tall stack of books in his arms, his chin perched on top to pin them in place but opening the door no handed seems to have knocked him off balance because the books are sliding from their tower, quite clearly millimetres from crashing to the ground. Babe leaps forward on instinct, grabbing the sides of the pile to straighten it out.

When the books are in less danger he looks up, meeting a pair of dark eyes, and it’s a good thing the books are steady because Babe has always turned into a klutz around hot people and this guy has the face of a goddamn angel.

“Thanks,” the guy drawls, in an accent Babe can’t place but is suddenly eager to hear more of.

“Uh- no worries.” Babe should maybe back off, should _definitely_ let go of the guy’s books now, but he’s kind of worried about falling over his own feet.

“This is Babe Heffron, Messina’s new guy,” Luz introduces. “Babe, meet Doc Roe, best goddamn med student on campus – as you can see by the fact that he’s already brought half the library home with him.”

Babe nods, stepping back and jamming his hands in his pockets with a muttered, “Hi.” A guy who looks like art and has the brains to be acing med school, Babe is _doomed_.

“And Doc, I know you’ve got all those books, but there’s a party at Messina tomorrow so-,”

Roe dumps his books on an end table and then starts stacking them on one of the empty shelves. “I gotta head over to the clinic, but you can tell me an’ Spina about it later.”

“The clinic?” Luz asks. “You mind walking Babe here towards the enrolment office if you’re headed that way anyway. I promised Bill I wouldn’t let him get lost.”

Roe looks over at Babe, likely wondering how dumb he is to need somebody to show him where to go instead of just getting the campus map and working it out, but then he shrugs. “Sure, best get moving though. It ain’t far, but the offices close for lunch soon.”

So once again Babe finds himself being herded out and shepherded around. And where Luz chattered his way across campus, pointing out landmarks along the way, Roe is quiet and Babe is at the mercy of his own thoughts, which is a situation that will only lead to disaster if it’s allowed to persist. He’s trying really hard not to stare at Roe like some sort of creep, but he’s got nothing else to occupy himself with and Roe is striking.

Babe can’t help the urge to break the silence between them. “You, ha, you’re probably wondering how I even got into college right, when Bill thinks he’s gotta get people to show me to every place personal like, just so I don’t get my dumbass-self lost.”

Roe looks over at him with a little bit of a frown, like he’s not sure what Babe is blathering on about. “I don’t really think you need your hand held, but it’s good of him to be watching out for family.”

Honestly, Babe would be finding this whole experience a lot less objectionable if Roe were holding his hand. He wonders if Roe’s fingers would be soft like the hands typical of someone studious or if the practical work involved in medicine would mean he has callouses to match Babe’s own.

“I guess, yeah. And he’ll have to lay off once classes start," Or at least Babe hopes he will.

They turn a corner and Roe pauses and points up the street. “You see that tall buildin’ right up there? That’s where you’re headed.”

Babe sees it. Blocky and grey with a sign on the front just a little too distant to read but which Babe has a sinking suspicion clearly labels it as the building holding the admin offices. “Huh, I was expecting it to be further. Now I’m really worried that Bill thinks I'd need so much help to find it - and that everyone he's asked agreed.”

Roe shakes his head, but Babe thinks his mouth curls ever so slightly upwards. “Reckon you can manage this last stretch on your own? I go right here for the clinic.”

"Well if I do manage to get horribly lost and am never seen again, at least Bill will get to enjoy being right about me," Babe says, "Have a good time." He then promptly wants to hit himself, because Roe is headed to the clinic and while Babe didn't think to ask what he was going there for, it's not like clinics are places people go for fun.

Roe shoots him a deservedly odd look, but says only, "See you later," before departing. Babe spends a moment watching him walk away before realising that if Roe glances back he's going to think Babe is some sort of staring creeper, which would be true but isn't really the impression he wants to make.

Jesus Christ, he's been at college barely a week and Babe can already tell he's in over his head.

 

*****

 

The sun is setting on campus and the party is already in swing at Messina house as Luz joins Bill and Joe where they're sitting with Liebgott in the camp chairs set up on the porch.

"You!" Bill says accusingly, and Luz raises his hands in immediate surrender.

"Me?" he agrees, waiting a moment before dropping his hands and grabbing a beer from the cooler the chairs are gathered around. "What about me?"

Liebgott laughs. "He's pissed because he entrusted his pet freshman to you and you sent him back all twitterpated."

"He's not a pet," Bill replies. "You can train a pet to be less dumb. But seriously Luz, the kid is all ass over teakettle and term hasn't even started properly. It appears you introduced him to the most beautiful man on the planet, who graces our campus in the form of Doc Roe."

George chokes on his beer a little, but with a bit of spluttering manages to keep from snorting it out of his nose. "Whoops," he finally manages.

"Oh, laugh it up," Bill complains, "You aren't the one that's going to have to live with the pining."

"Hey, we had to put up with you when you were first trying to score with Frannie," Joe points out, "Turnabout is fair play."

"Yeah, but me and Fran, we're great. Babe's only known Roe about ten minutes."

"What, you don't believe in love at first sight?" George teases. Joe swats his knee and Liebgott throws a bottle cap at him while Bill groans.

"Neither do you Luz, I'm sitting here with a bunch of chronically single guys. Maybe Babe isn't such a pain, at least he's got an eye on someone and not just sitting around being sad and lonely."

"Hey, nothing lonely about it," Joe protests. "You're the odd man out here."

Liebgott nods. "You can't really say you enjoy all the sappy shit you do for Fran's sake. I mean hand holding and chick flicks and I don't know, listening to them complain about their drama, is it really worth all that trouble just for a reliable lay?"

"I dunno," George says, "It's not like there aren't upsides. It would be fun to have someone special to uh... drive around and get milkshakes with. Maybe after two years of bachelorhood this year is gonna be year for getting some romance.”

“Or just getting some,” Bill jokes. "I mean, driving around and getting milkshakes, where are you going on these dates, the 1950s?"

George shrugs. "Yeah," there is that. He was on kind of a dry spell last semester and he'd gone back home to his parents for the summer, and hooking up with somebody he'd gone to high school with in a bedroom he shares with two younger brothers just didn't appeal. Anyway, while he's got a few random hook-ups in his past, he's always preferred the thought of having somebody comfortable and reliable, somebody he could just have fun and fool around with, instead of feeling like he had something to prove. "Okay, so goal for the semester is to spread the love and also get some, who's in?"

The three faces looking back at him couldn't look any less up for it. "Bill, I'm disappointed in you," he says, "I'm sure your girl would like you showing a romantic streak. And your reluctance to be a wingman for your little freshman buddy is cold," he tuts and turns to Joe and Liebgott. "And you two... you oughta... actually no, I can't even pretend to be surprised that you aren't getting behind the romance. Dicks."

"There's a difference between wingman and miracle worker," Bill protests. "I've known Babe since he was crawling, and trust me, it would take a miracle to get Roe to even have an actual conversation with him. Roe's smart."

"So's Fran, and she puts up with you," Joe points out, and George leans over for a fist bump, because it's always good when somebody has his back. He doesn't really know Babe, but does know Roe called Babe an alright guy after meeting him - and living with him meant George got to see that Doc was a whole lot less serious than he looked from the outside.

Liebgott pushes himself out of his chair.  "Urgh, well, you girls have fun gossiping about Heffron's love life, I'm gonna go find some food."

Bill pulls a face, "I hope you've got a stash of snacks in your room then, because I'm pretty sure Skip and Penkala were on store duty and they only brought back booze."

Liebgott cusses. "Can't believe I'm gonna have to break out the emergency care package already," he mutters, walking away. "Why do I live here again?"

 

*****

 

Babe should really be looking for a way out of this conversation, he's in the front room of the house with a soda because Bill is a terrible person who had come over all law-abiding suddenly when they'd been passing around the booze and Babe had tried to get a drink, and he's making the world's most terrible small talk with Roe. He should never have come over here really, but he didn't want to hang out with Bill's friends so when he saw a familiar face he'd made his way across the room, hoping now the shock of meeting someone so hot had worn off he'd be able to talk to Roe without embarrassing himself.

His optimism was misplaced.

They're talking about campus environmental policy, which Babe knows nothing about and Roe looks bored by, and Babe knows it's all his own fault because he'd tried to make a joke about how Bill and the guys were going to recycle all of these beer bottles, and Roe had made a little huffing sound that might have been the beginnings of a laugh, and then Babe had gotten all flustered and instead of making another smooth joke he'd just started rambling nervously about recycling.

This would be a whole lot easier with a little liquid courage, but oh no, Bill had to be a dick. Which, hey - "You've been here a year already, right? Where's good on campus? Bill keeps talking about this place that's cool, the Blue Room, but I can never tell if he's fucking with me or not when it comes to stuff like that. Or anything, really."

"A year, yeah. And my friend Renee likes the Blue Room but I only went a coupla times, it's fancier than most places on campus so it’s usually full of people on dates," Roe says, mouth twisting. "Not my scene."

"Oh?" Babe says, with a laugh that's sounds kind of fake even to him. "Not keen on other people's PDA."

"Something like that," Roe says. "Going out on a different date every week, it ain't a good use of time, y'know?"

Not really, Babe doesn't. Babe's only really dated one person before, but he always thought it was fun getting to go out with somebody you liked and have a good time, to enjoy their company. "Well it doesn't have to be a different person every week," he says, and he can feel his cheeks heating as he does so. God, he must be so obvious.

Roe shakes his head. "Still seems like a recipe for a whole lotta trouble, turns perfectly sensible guys crazy - I bet Bill has told you about what happened with Dick and Nix, last I heard he was tellin’ everyone who’d listen."

The names are familiar, now Babe thinks about them and he is pretty sure the stories they featured in were wrapped up in drama even if he can't remember the specifics. "He's told me some."

Roe nods. "Dick nearly failed a stats class that semester. Carwood - Lipton, you met him yesterday?" If Lipton is the guy Luz called Lip then yeah, Babe nods. "He's got the right idea," Roe continues. "He doesn't date at all, stays away from all the flirtin' and the drama. Sticks to his work and his friends - that's the best thing for it. The rest just gets messy."

Babe nods slowly, he's not sure he agrees - that the complications of relationships are bad, or that keeping your ties unromantic keeps the pain away, but now isn't the time to think of Julian.

Anyway, Babe isn't stupid, he knows exactly what Roe is doing. He hadn't been trying particularly hard to hide his attraction to Roe, hadn't really held out much hope for reciprocation but just figured make a bigger ass of himself trying to play it cool, but he knows when he's being shut down. Roe dismissing dating rather than coming right about and rejecting Babe on a personal level is an attempt to be nice but dear god, the ground opening up right now and swallowing Babe would be kinder. It's one thing to know he had a bit of a hopeless crush, but was is another to have said crush tacitly call him out.

Roe is looking really uncomfortable and Babe takes a deep breath and forces a smile. He's not gonna be an asshole about it. "Hey, then you're one less person that I have to worry about roping me in to play wingman. Man, Bill used to drag me to all sorts of crap before he got a girlfriend, you would not even believe." Bill also used to complain Babe was the worst wingman ever, was too awkward and had no ability to bullshit, but look at him now. "Hey, is that the other freshman from your place over there? Hooper?"

"Hoobler," Roe corrects. "And Spina, the other med student."

"Right, we should probably say hi," Babe suggests, pushing his way in that direction. Anything to take the heat off of him.

God, when he found Bill next he was going to demand a drink, whether Bill liked it or not. He could take Bill on if he had to.

 

*****

 

As much as David had dreaded coming to the party, he has to admit to himself that he's not having a totally awful time. He's stuck to the kitchen, where it's quieter, and honestly after a long slug from Nix's flask to get him warmed up, the cheap beer he'd been given by Welsh isn't so bad.

Nix, who'd wandered off to find a free bathroom ten minutes ago, comes in grinning. It's the sort of grin that inspires a little dread in Webster. He likes Nix, most of the time, but sometimes the man's sense of humour is deeply troubling.

"Hey, you met Bill's new freshman yesterday, didn't you?" he asks, taking a seat on the kitchen counter. "Did he make a good enough impression that you want to swoop in there and save the kid from himself? Because he's trying to chat up Doc Roe and... man, I stopped to just watch for a few minutes, it's a like a car crash - tragic and painful but you can't look away."

David considers it for a moment, the kid had been kinda of staring at Roe but surely it couldn't actually be as bad as Nix was making out. "I'm sure he'll cope. Has Roe mentioned the whole-"

"To some kid he's just met?" Nix interrupts with a shake of his head. "I doubt it; you know he's too private for that. He was talking about why relationships are a distraction and ruin your grades. I think he was using me and Dick as an example too, the little shit."

David nods. Honestly Eugene might have a point about them, Dick and Nix make a good couple but the impression Webster got from their emails last year suggested it had been a bumpy path to get there. It's become obvious within a few days of getting back they both think it's worth it, but David knows not everybody wants their relationships to require so much hardship.

Perhaps Nix senses Webster is thinking less than entirely supportive thoughts, because he leans forward with a grin and digresses. "How about you, Webster? You've been in Europe - any whirlwind international romances?"

David shrugs. "Nothing worth talking about." He'd dated two different guys on his year out, and had a fling with a girl at his summer internship before that. He'd been attracted to all three of them, admired the way each had been stylish without needing to be trendy, that they had shared his opinions and enthusiasm in art and politics, each of them seemed perfect to describe, but each of the relationships had fizzled out disappointingly. He didn't consider himself to be overly sentimental, wasn't expecting a racing heart and fireworks every time a partner walked into the room, but some sparks would be nice and he seemed to be incapable of finding anyone who could offer him that.

Nix pulls a face at him. "A whole year in Europe, and you didn't manage anything worth putting in a memoir. You disappoint me."

"I did plenty of interesting things," David protests. "It was a worthwhile year, even if I didn't connect with anyone." Nix is right though, and David is a little disappointed himself - he'd had high hopes for his year in Germany and while some of his aspirations had been a little fanciful, he'd really believed he'd manage to find someone who could make him feel something exciting.

Nix claps him on the shoulder, a gesture that once would have led to companionable commiserations and Nix talking about his string of girlfriends he didn't even particularly like, but seems more pitying now Nix is settled down. "Drink up," he says instead, "Maybe this'll be your year." He doesn't sound like he particularly believes it himself, but David downs his beer and accepts the replacement when Nix presses it into his hand.

He's recounting some of the more interesting trips he made while abroad when he hears yelling from the hallway.

"Because he's parked like a douchebag!" David recognises the voice immediately, and despite not hearing it for a year he can already feel himself getting annoyed in response. "I mean what kind of college student even needs a car, let alone some shitty overcompensating luxury car shit. There's no way he paid for that himself - do you reckon it was his parents, or did he get a sugar daddy in Europe or something?"

"Fuck." Of course, if Joseph Liebgott is around and complaining, it would be Webster he was complaining about. Webster was never sure what he'd done to piss the guy off so badly, other than to try and actually work on the project they'd been assigned in their freshman German class when Liebgott had preferred to dick around. Half the guys here had their parents help them with paying for things, and Webster was certain Liebgott never complained when the booze Nix brought to parties was brought with his dad’s credit card. As for the other suggestion… Webster didn’t even know what the fuck to think about that, other than that Liebgott was so desperate to find fault with David he was willing to embark upon wild fantasies in search of something to complain about.

"Is this the last beer in here?" David asks, holding up the bottle Nix had just passed him. "Because I think there's some more in the car. And snacks." David had thought it was pretty weird when Dick had insisted on bringing a whole box of food with them, because Messina parties really weren't fancy enough to require bringing a gift to the host, but he'd dutifully loaded the box into his car and driven them over, and now he was seeing the benefit – a ready-made excuse to get away. "Do you want me to fetch you anything?" he asks, but he's already making his way towards the door that leads from Messina's kitchen out onto their back porch. Nix, the bastard, is laughing at him, and it's a sliding door so David doesn't even get the satisfaction of slamming it behind him.

 

*****

 

Joe is already pissed as he's coming down the stairs, but if hadn't been, the words he overheard, in a New York accent that grates familiarly even after going unheard so long, would have annoyed him, he's certain.

"Is this the last beer in here? Because I think there's some more in the car. And snacks."

So, Webster's douchey car is here because he didn't think whatever booze and food the guys at Messina could offer would be good enough for him, no doubt he's brought along craft beer and some whole foods nonsense, carrot sticks or something equally shitty and inappropriate. It's exactly what he'd expect from Webster and definitely disproves Luz's suggestion that the guy might have improved.

Joe had been enjoying the party, been successfully ignoring the knowledge that Webster was lurking about some place, but then Muck and Malarkey had started playing pig in the middle with Penkala in the hall and it had looked fun, so Joe had kind of wanted to get a proper game going on the driveway but when he looked out of the window the driveway was already being occupied by a car too fancy for any decent college student. Which meant he knew exactly who is belongs to. He'd gone to look for Web to get him to move his car but of course, Webster was talking shit, and when Joe had gone into the kitchen to tell the bastard exactly what he thought of him, the door had been sliding shut and Nix had been sitting on the table alone doing a terrible job of looking innocent.

Joe decides to go the direct route, back the way he came and through the house. When he gets out front there's a couple of guys sitting on the lawn and he can see Toye still sitting on the porch talking with Luz - because who wouldn't hang out outside of a party that they're throwing? Whatever. Joe doesn't care if they have an audience - maybe seeing this will get other people to finally understand exactly why Joe thinks Webster is such an asshole.

Webster is getting a case of beer out the back of his car, but he turns when Joe yells, "Hey, asshole!"

He's looking kind of tan and he's grown his hair out of the 'future douchebags of America'-crop he used to wear it in. The part of Joe that works in his uncle's barber shop during the summer can’t help but note how much better his new cut, long on top and loose enough to curl a little, looks on him. He probably got it from some salon that changed a hundred bucks just to walk in the door in London or Paris, like the asshole that he is.

"Oh, it's you."

Webster doesn't even have the decency to sound like he gives a shit, his tone is just bored as Joe walks right up to him. "Yeah, it's me," he says, looking down at the case in Webster's hands. "Let me guess, you've got import beer because the regular stuff isn't good enough for your tastes. Show off."

Webster rolls his eyes. "Yes, I spent extra money on this mediocre beer instead of the cheap stuff because I thought everybody would see the label and think it was cool." His tone is sarcastic but Joe wouldn't put it past him.

"Whatever. You know your car is in the way - move it."

Webster shifts the case of beer to balance against his hip, freeing up a hand to slam the trunk of the car shut. "In the way of what? Anyway, Harry said I could park here. He agreed it with Dick when we decided to drive here."

"Welsh isn't the boss of this house," Joe argues. Sure, since it was a big driveway and they also had street parking so it was generally agreed people could park wherever, but that just meant there were less inconvenient places for Webster to park than right in the middle of the otherwise empty driveway.

"Well, why don't you leave me alone and take it up with him?" Webster snaps back.

"Leave you alone? This is my house that you're at, or was your nose too high in the air to notice where you were walking?" Joe would be happy to ignore Webster, but he's already getting the feeling that now Webster is back it's going to be like freshman year again. Webster always around and making himself impossible to ignore by being so obnoxiously himself. “Or maybe you were too busy harping on about the most pointless shit - you’d bore a brick wall to death.”

"What does that have to do with-" Webster shakes his head, turning away. "You know what? I don't care. I was invited here so I'm going to take this beer to the kitchen and leave you to get a grip."

Just like that he pushes past Joe, back up the porch steps and into the house. Joe steps up to Webster's car and kicks one of its tires firmly - he knows it won't do much but it's a good way to get his anger out.

"Yeah, kick its ass Liebgott!"

Joe turns and looks at the upper floor of the house where Malarkey and Muck are leaning out of the window and grinning.

"I hope you fall and break your heads!" he hollers back.

Neither of them seem bothered.

 

*****

 

The party is wrapping up, and George is back on the porch after having done the rounds to catch up with some of the guys he's missed over the summer and hadn't seen yet. The sky is dark, the clouds blacking out the stars and leaving the moon only a dim glow, but the streetlights keep the yard just bright enough to see, and the porchlight illuminates the area where he and Joe are sat.

The door swings open and the sound of already familiar bickering fills the porch as Bill and Babe step out.

"F minus on showing any game there, Babe," Bill taunts and Babe swings a punch at his arm.

"I was just bein' friendly," he protests.

George can't control his laughter at that weak lie. Half a dozen people had come by already to tell the story of Babe's failed attempt to hit on Eugene Roe. George honestly felt kind of bad for the guy, who was going to be starting the semester with a reputation for being the terribly awkward flirting guy, but at the same time he was secure in the knowledge that they were doing Babe a favour - freshman social wipe-outs were inevitable, but if they were thoroughly mocked they rarely repeated their mistakes.

Bill says something and George misses it under the sound of his own laughter but it makes Babe grin wryly.

"Okay, so maybe I was hittin' on him a little. But c'mon, he's nice looking and you know my mom would be real proud if I brought home a doctor," he jokes and they all laugh along.

"Bringin' him home to your mom?" Bill says, "Moving a little fast there aren't ya'. I figured you were just looking to score."

Babe goes a little red at that and shrugs. "He seemed cool. We had a good conversation apart from how I made an ass outta myself."

From his seat Joe makes an odd noise, expression shifting into something George recognises as pity, although it seems strange on Joe's face. "Damn, you got it bad..."

Babe scoffs. "Oh let up, would ya'. You can have a good laugh at how I made myself look dumb, but don't make it into a thing when it isn't."

George sighs. "Giving up so easily?" he says. "That's a shame. Roe could do with been taken out, he's so serious all the time. You could've been good for him."

Babe shakes his head. "He was tellin' me about that. How he doesn't date, thinks it's a waste of time. He was talking about some guy, Lip-"

"Some guy?" George interrupts. "I literally introduced you to him yesterday."

"-Right, I thought so," Babe continues dismissively. "Anyway, apparently, this guy is his role model and Roe thinks he gets good grades and stays out of trouble by never dating ever."

"Yeah, Lip's a tragic case," George agrees. "He's definitely the sort of person who would suit being paired off with somebody so he could be all cosy and domestic with them, but for some reason he just makes himself everybody's mom-friend, which means it would be weird for them to hit on him."

"Maybe the need for him to be your mom friend is because you're all not very good at being adults," Babe taunts, Bill looks like he's gearing up to protest but Babe shakes his head, "You've told me too many stories of the trouble you got into since you’ve been here to keep acting like you're so much cooler than me now. I-" he cuts himself off with a yawn, “Right, well I’ve embarrassed myself enough for one day. I’m going to bed – if you want my help cleanin’ up its gonna have to wait till morning.”

"Damn right you're gonna help clean up," Bill grumbles in the direction of Babe's retreating form, and George is one again glad that hosting and therefore clean-up had been taken on by Messina – he’s been nipping in and out of the house all evening, both to socialise and to refill their cooler and while the place wasn’t trashed last time he checked, it was certainly on its way there.

George takes another sip of his beer. “I stand by it being a shame about Lip though, it’s not like he’s bad looking or anything, and I can’t imagine what sort of crazy you’d have to be to say he has a bad personality, but he never seems to have a date.”

Bill rolls his eyes. “He gonna be a victim in your quest to spread some love? Or is he your first target in looking to get yourself laid, because I gotta say, I’m not sure that’ll work out so well for you.”

“Hey!” George protests, pressing a hand to his heart in false offence. “I mean he’s sorta outta my league, and also, y’know _mom,_ but I don’t even know what his type would be, he could be into people like me,” George says. “I mean, somebody like himself would be too much mother henning for one relationship, and they say opposites attract, so he could go for loudmouths.”

“Well hey, if you pulled it off it might do Babe a favour, get his foot in the door with Doc. Or, get something somewhere anyway.”

George laughs. He’s not quite sure what Doc thought he was doing using Lip as his excuse to dissuade Babe, and he’s pretty sure the only thing that’ll be any use in changing his mind will be time, but if that’s what it takes to get Bill on team romance. “Think of it as an alternative sort of wingman-ing.”

“Alright,” Bill says, and George leans over for a fist bump before turning to Joe.

“You and Lip?” Joe says flatly, “No way. Don’t waste your time.” Sometimes Joe's jokes come out too deadpan and people don't realise he's kidding, but that's not a mistake George has ever made, and Joe looks seriously unamused. It stings a little, George is fine with admitting that Lip is out of his league, but he’d kind of been expecting Joe to have his back.

“Lip and somebody,” George corrects. It’s not like they have to find the guy his future spouse, just get him out on a couple of dates and having fun – how hard can it be? “C’mon, you can’t muster up a little pity for Heffron?”

Joe rolls his eyes. “Not really. But I can tell you’re gonna do it anyway so I guess I’ll volunteer before I’m dragged in.”

It’s not exactly the enthusiasm George was looking for, but it’s still a yes, so George holds a fist out to Joe anyway.

“Well I might not know what Lip wants dating wise, but I know that he doesn’t want everybody staggering back on their own after the party, so since I came with Web I probably oughta go find him,” he stands, and he’s only a little unsteady, but Joe reaches out to prop him up and George bats his hands away. “I’m fine. Unless Web is still in a snit with Liebgott in which case I might die from listening to excessive bitching, but I’m sure you guys will make my funeral awesome.”

“Damn right.”

“Fuck off.”

George loves his friends.

He wanders into the house, sticks his head in the living room and finds it deserted. He heads back into the hall, planning on checking the kitchen next; instead he finds Malarkey & Muck carrying a passed out Penkala down the stairs.

"Well you look like you're having fun," George observes.

"He sleepwalks when he's drunk," Malarkey explains.

"At least if he's down here he can't fall down any stairs again," Skip adds.

"Very responsible of you," George congratulates, "And speaking of, have you seen Webster? He was my ride in and I don't want to just bail."

"Well you've been bailed on," Malarkey says, "He stormed out ages ago.”

"Yeah he and Liebgott got into another spat in the kitchen, there was yelling and if you’re headed through there maybe watch out for broken glass.”

“Broken glass?” Webster was typically the passive aggressive sort of angry, not the breaking things sort. “And he went off on his own, how drunk was he?”

“Winters went after him, so he can’t get in too much trouble.”

"Hey, Nix! Luz is still here so you haven't been left on your lonesome after all!" Despite Skip hollering right by his head, Penkala doesn't stir.

Nix wanders in looking glum. “Oh, they left you here too, did they?”

“I didn’t realise they’d gone. They left the car,” George says.

Nix pulls a face.   “Yeah, Webster wasn’t really in a state to be driving by that point, and Dick thought he could use the air.”

"Could one of you guys take it back, Liebgott was going on about slashing his tyres, I think Harry talked him down, but I make no promises about in the morning."

George snorts. There’s no way Nix is fit to drive right now and George knows he isn’t. “Just gonna have to chance it. I’ll remind Webster to come back for it if you want.”

“Where is Liebgott now?” Nix asks.

Malarkey shrugs, “Sulking in his room I think.”

“God they’re both so pissy,” Skip comments, “They deserve each other.”

“Can you imagine them on a date?” George says. “Like, trying to pick a movie to watch together, and then sitting in a restaurant acting like normal human beings who are capable of being chill.”

“I didn’t mean it like-,” Skip begins, then shakes his head. “Actually, that’s a hilarious mental image; continue.”

Nix laughs. “Next time Webster starts complaining that whatever clone of himself he starts dating next is boring him-” George couldn’t help but laugh along at that, Webster’s choice of partners was hilariously narcissistic, not so much in looks but always in personality, "-I’ll offer to set him up on a blind date and make it Liebgott.”

Malarkey shakes his head. “Webster might be desperate enough to agree to a blind date, but Lieb, no way. He’d have to admit to being capable of emotions other than grouchiness and mockery, and that’s not likely.”

“Also they’d both know they were being fucked with if they were on a blind date with each other. Getting them convinced enough to treat it like a proper date…” George trailed off. He’d just had the most wonderful and terrible idea. He’d pledged to make this a year of romance, and what could be more impressive than setting up the two most mismatched guys on campus.

“You’re not seriously thinking of attempting this?” Nix says, but Skip is grinning too.

“We’ve still got a whole week before classes start, and things aren’t going to get serious until next month, we could use the entertainment.”

Malarkey looks dubious. “It sounds funny, but I can’t see it working. Neither of them would put their egos aside long enough.”

“That’s the best part,” George says, warming to the idea. “I think if we goaded them right their egos would force them to go along with it because each of them would want to rise about their fight to prove they were better than the other.”

“I don’t think Liebgott’s ever risen above anything in his life,” Nix says. “But… yeah, Webster would probably go for it if we positioned it as him proving he’s not as petty as we all know he actually is.”

“Joe does like proving people wrong though,” Malarkey comments. “We could have an angle in that. And even if we completely fuck up it can’t be any worse than it is now.”

George grins. “Okay, so how do we want to do this?”


	2. Chapter 2

It's been three says since the party, and David knows he needs to go and get his car back. Firstly, because it's rude to just leave it taking up space on Messina's driveway indefinitely - they don't need all their parking on a regular basis but it's a question of manners. Secondly, and most pressingly, because one of his bookshelves was somehow damaged in storage and two of the shelves have buckled and he needs to replace it because there's only so high he can stack books on his nightstand before they start to pose a serious risk of falling over and injuring him in the night. He can't wait for a delivery, and he can't ask Lip for a ride because, while Carwood is more sympathetic to David's difficulties with Liebgott than the others, he'll make the perfectly reasonable suggestion that David fetch his own car back in a way that will leave David feeling guilty for wasting his time.

He heads over early, or at least early by the standards of college students when classes hadn't started, because it seems like his best hope for avoiding any awkward confrontations. His car is fortunately untouched (an unexpected blessing – he’d resigned himself to it having been keyed at the very least) and he gets in and is about to start it when he hears the front door of the house swing open.

Panicking he ducks low in seat, cutting himself off from their line of sight so whoever it is that's exiting the house won't be able to see him. The thought of having a third pointless argument with Liebgott about the car is something he wants to avoid enough to compensate for any embarrassment he feels about hiding.

He doesn't mean to overhear the voices coming from the porch, but they're talking so loudly on the quiet street and his car window is rolled down enough that it's not doing anything to block the sound.

"So, Joe's still got it bad, huh?" The sounds like Malarkey. Webster wonders if he's talking about Liebgott or Toye - neither of them seem the type to get tangled up in infatuations. Liebgott had probably never had a pleasant feeling for anybody else in his life, and as far as David knows Toye never showed much patience for anybody outside of the little trio he had with Guarnere and Luz.

"You'd think a year apart would have been enough time to get over it." And that's definitely Penkala's accent he hears, which makes it an easy guess as to who the third person is.

"I thought he had, he was so much more chill last year and then..."

"...And then Webster came back and Lieb's going crazy about him all over again."

Webster startles so hard he hits his elbow on the parking break and the cusses quietly to himself. He knows he should draw their attention, let them know he's here and he can hear them, and he's honestly going to, but then there's footsteps right by the car and he can't see who it is, and that's a risk he doesn't want to take.

It's not until the newcomer speaks, "What did I miss?", that he realises it's Luz, who must have crashed on one of Messina’s couches, and it would be safe to reveal himself after all.

It's too late though, because Muck resumes with, "Oh, we were just discussing Liebgott and Webster," and it would just be too awkward for them know he'd caught them talking like this.

"Damn, I feel bad for Liebgott about that," Luz says. "I mean, it's Webster. You know I like the guy, but he set his mind to disliking Lieb way back in freshman year, and now he'll never try to see his good side because that would mean admitting he could be wrong about somebody."

That's not true. David would definitely admit to being wrong about somebody if he really thought he had been, but he was certain he'd been right about his first impression of Liebgott. Well, not his first impression, when they'd been partnered in their German class and Liebgott had smirked at him across the classroom in a way that made study sessions seem more exciting than they had any right to be. Nor his second one, when Liebgott had suggested a clever project idea that would be impressive and show off knowledge beyond what had been taught in the classroom. His third impression - when Liebgott hadn't shown any interest in doing his share of the work on the project and instead seemed happy to dump all of it on David, then had mocked him for being a nerd for his quite reasonable wish to succeed, just like the jerks David had thought he'd escaped upon leaving high school – the impression that Liebgott was a douchebag, that he was definitely right about, as Liebgott had consistently proven during all of their subsequent encounters.

"I mean at least he's got no illusions about it," Penkala says. "What was it he said again - that he knows Webster would never just back down from their fight now, because Joe wouldn't either if things were reversed."

"It's like being back at elementary school," Malarkey says, "The way Joe keeps picking fights to get his attention because he doesn't know how else to deal with him."

"Pigtail pulling," Muck surmises.

David splutters quietly. Muck really must be losing it if he thinks that's what it is. Joe doesn't keep going after him because he likes him, he does it because he’d taken a dislike to David for, according to his words on the German project, ‘being an uptight fucking nerd’ and things had slid downhill from there.

"It's useless anyway, we've all seen Webster's type. Joe could be the most attractive and charming guy on the planet in every other way and Webster would probably turn his nose up because of the lack of fancy Shakespeare references and poetry in the flirting."

"It's not like Lieb isn't smart either, he's just a math guy not an English one - which is more useful anyway."

Malarkey punches Penkala in the arm, "Alright, lay off the math people solidarity display, everybody here is in awe of your number skills."

David scowls. It was unfair of them to act like he didn't respect Liebgott's intelligence, he would willingly admit to anyone (except of course Joe himself) that when Liebgott talked about engineering he was probably being very clever, he just might as well be speaking in Greek for all David could make sense of it. Greek might actually have been easier, David had made a misguided attempt at comparing translations of the Iliad as a teenager and he'd recognise at least a few words, whereas he'd almost had to retake a year of high school his math grades were so catastrophic.

It was true that David had a type when it came to dating, he always chose people he had a lot in common with because he knew what to say to them, what to do with people who shared his opinions and attitudes, but it wasn't like he was never interested in anybody who didn't fit that model, just that he wouldn't even know where to start flirting with somebody who wouldn't understand the references to literary romances that came easier to David than any words of his own.

"It’s good thing, that he hasn’t noticed, I mean,” Muck says, “You know how Web can be. If he knew he'd end up saying something awful that makes fun of Joe. And not even out of spite, he just never thinks before he talks." That's not true, David thinks, he puts a lot of thought into what he says. But then again, it is true that Liebgott seems to cut through all of his usual thoughtfulness and reserve, making him react in ways he never planned on.

"Still, is it really fair to let things go on like this?"

"I don't see how putting Joe in a position to be rejected outright helps any. He'll get over it in time. If nothing else, we'll all graduate and they can just lose contact."

Graduating, still two years off, is a nauseating thought. The idea that anybody, even Liebgott, is eagerly awaiting the opportunity to not have to see him again sits ill with David and the notion that nine to five jobs and paying off student loans were a better alternative to his company is plain insulting.

The mention of graduation at least serves to get them off the topic of him, but David stays slumped in the car for what feels like an age before they wander back into the house. Even then he stays put. If he starts the car right now it would be really obvious he'd been here all along. Anyway, he's not sure he could focus on driving after what he's just learned.

Joseph Liebgott, for all of his marks of dislike, was attracted to Webster. More than attracted - if his housemates’ assessments were to be believed - interested in, infatuated with...

It's beyond strange, since David can't recall a single incidence of softness from Joe towards him. But, as the others had so aptly stated, if Joe had shown him such an opening he might have leveraged it against Joe in their arguing without stopping to realise the implications. So perhaps not so odd that Joe would be so committed to keeping any affection hidden.

 David might not have the best history with Joe, but he doesn't actually want to use this against him, no matter what the others thought of him. David never enjoyed his conflict with Liebgott, it was something unavoidable to be endured, and if there was a possibility of changing that then maybe it was time to give him a second chance. It had been nearly two years since Liebgott's initial rudeness, personal growth was not impossible. They'd gotten along poorly at the party sure, but old habits tended to stick, and while David didn't think the arguing was his fault, he's certainly done little to discourage or avoid it. There has to be some common ground he has with Liebgott, something on which they could build a bridge. Webster knew all too well the feeling of somebody not just rejecting you but actively disliking you, and he wouldn't contribute to Joe suffering from that.

The details he would just have to work out as he went.

 

*****

 

The fact that Babe is exhausted just by registering for classes probably isn't the best omen for his academic career. Sure, Bill had made it to senior year, which suggested it couldn't be that difficult, but then again Bill was majoring in rocks and had openly admitted to being baffled by the challenge Babe faced of picking his classes not just to meet requirements but to ensure he had all the correct prerequisites for the courses he'd be interested in doing later. Bill’s selection criteria had been based off which classes the older students said were easy.

He's spent the last few days trekking back and forth across campus trying to find the offices of various professors in order to clarify details that had been left maddeningly vague in the course catalogue. He's _earned_ nice café-made coffee instead of the crap that they have at the house. There are quite a few places on campus, chain and independent, and he doesn't know which ones are good yet but the one nearest to him is a tucked away little place called 'The Bean Hive' that doesn't look too intimidatingly hipster.

He ducks in the door and is relieved to see that the board above the counter lists all of the options in plain English. He orders a regular latte, pays with a handful of change, and turns to find a seat.

As he's crossing the room to some soft looking couches, the sound of a familiarly enchanting accent saying, "That ain't funny," drifts across the room and he looks over to a table in the corner where Roe sits, along with another dark-haired guy that Babe definitely met at the party, Spinnet or something, and a totally unfamiliar blonde girl, whom Roe is now whispering intensely to.

Fortunately, they haven't noticed him, but then Roe smiles at something girl says, and Babe stumbles, knocking his hip against the back of a chair, curses, and, oh yeah, now they'd definitely noticed him. Noticed him and are staring.

And Babe can feel his face heating and knows he's going fire engine red.

The blonde is waving to him. "You can come sit with us," she calls, and Babe doesn't know this girl, which makes him hesitant to accept her offer; but also, Babe doesn't know this girl, and she might turn out to be somebody he sees on a regular basis, so he hardly wants to start off by snubbing her.

He should have ordered a take-out coffee, then at least he could pretend to be in a hurry to get someplace else. Instead he walks over, he's tempted to stay standing so he can drink fast and make a quick exit, but that's not just awkward it's cowardly, so he places his coffee on the table and drags a chair over so he's seated next to Spinnet and opposite the girl, which seems like the safest position.

"Babe, right? I'm Renee," the blonde introduces, "And you already know Ralph and Gene."

Babe frowns, because no he doesn't, "Who?"

Renee stares at him. Okay, process of elimination, Ralph and Gene are doubtless the first names of Roe and Spinnet, but he doesn't know why she would expect him to know that. "I mean, these guys, obviously," Babe covers, "But um..."

Realisation dawns in Renee's eyes. “You spent hours at the party with these guys and you didn’t know their names?” she giggles.

Babe shrugs, and points to Spinnet and Roe in turn. “He never introduced himself at all, and everybody just kept callin’ him Doc.”

"Oh, the boys do that," Renee concedes, “But didn’t you wonder?”

“Nope,” Babe says, perfectly frank. “I’ve been Babe to everyone from my mom to my school principal for near as long as I can remember. Once ended up startin’ a real daft rumour about me an’ Bill.” That had been a baffling couple of weeks before they’d realised, horrified, what the misunderstanding was. “But that's just how things are. Hell, I’m pretty sure you’re the first person who’s introduced themselves to me with an actual first name. I figure the other guys’ mothers must have gave ‘em one, but it’s no business of mine unless they want to share."

Renee is looking at him like she thinks he might be crazy, but she's smiling so hopefully a good sort of crazy.

"Don't you find it weird having people call you by a pet name all the time," Spinnet asks. "I mean, I'm sure there are some people," and he smirks unsubtly as he says it, "That you'd like speaking to you that way, but-"

"...Spina..." Roe says in a warning one, which, oh well, Spinnet was a close enough guess.

"It's my name," Babe says firmly. Honestly, he finds it weird when other people start calling each other babe as an endearment – Fran had unthinkingly done so to Bill once, which had led to a very indignant Bill making her promise to never do such a thing again. "And everyone we went to high school with used to call Bill Gonorrhoea, so I got off lucky really."

Renee grimaces. “Gonor… really? That’s awful.”

“Aw, he could take it,” Babe dismisses. “So, I know these two guys are both taking medicine, but how about you?”

“Nursing,” Renee answers, before explaining how parts of her course overlapped with the doctoring medicine course, but others were wildly different. That somehow leads to Spina talking about he nearly ended up accidentally enrolling on a bunch of veterinary medicine courses by accident because they were classified by the university catalogue under the same category as regular medicine – and here Babe had been thinking he’d had it bad.

They’re easy to talk to, even with Gene Roe visible in out of the corner of his eye and occasionally chipping in with quiet, clever observations about the university organisation structure in that accent of his, that make it hard to Babe to keep track of his thoughts.

The thing is, having been firmly shot down leaves Babe on standing on solid ground. Oh he can still feel his face heat a little every time he looks in Roe's direction, but it's a lot easier to kick his own ass into staying calm when he can remind himself that there's no sense in trying to be impressive to somebody who has no interest in being impressed by Babe. There might not be any real way to let a person down easy, but, as much as it stung, Gene making his position clear is better in the long run is than if he’d left Babe thinking he had a chance and making a fool of himself about it.

By the time Babe has finished his coffee, he’s not thinking of bailing, he’s thinking of getting a refill. He doesn’t need the caffeine, but he’s having a good time and he could use the excuse to stay.

He walks over to the counter, noticing that Joe Liebgott is now sat hunched over a tall mug at a table near the counter. He must have slipped in while Babe was talking. He waves but Liebgott ignores him. This is not particularly surprising, since he doesn't seem to have taken to Babe in the week and a half since moving in, although Babe isn't sure if it's personal or if Liebgott just has no interest in socialising with freshmen.

The barista is making Babe's coffee when somebody joins the queue behind him, and he glances over his shoulder to see Webster, who has ditched the ridiculous scarf but still manages to look overdressed. It’s difficult to pin down why, some combination of wearing clothes neater and more expensively cut than the average student plus his general demeanour, Babe supposes. “Hi," he says, because it's polite. Webster looks startled, as if he hadn't noticed who he was standing behind, but returns the greeting, before going back to staring into space with a strange expression on his face.

The barista hands over a new mug of steaming latte, and Babe thanks him and steps aside to head back over to the table. The barista looks expectantly at Webster, who isn't paying the slightest bit of attention until Babe takes pity on them and fakes a loud cough to startle Webster from his thoughts. He jumps, head jerking around before blurting out an order for an expresso, which he pronounces really weirdly, and two brownies. He must be hungry.

It's not until Babe is making his way back over to the table that he realises that the line of sight from where Webster was standing, makes the space he was staring at the exact same space Liebgott is occupying.

"You alright?" Gene says as Babe sits down, "That was one nasty sounding cough."

"Fine," Babe nods, "Musta just been some dust or something."

He nods and the conversation resumes, having shifted while Babe was up to the topic of which lecturers Spina ought to be most frightened of. Renee's colourful descriptions are quite funny, but Babe finds his attention wandering back over to Webster who has received his coffee and cakes and is, for some crazy reason headed in Liebgott's direction. Babe isn't sure if he just enjoys arguing and making a ruckus, but Webster places the second brownie on the table and smiles at Liebgott, as if they hadn't had two massively public yelling matches at the party on Saturday. Liebgott's response is too far off for Babe to pick out the words, but his tone is waspish and he scowls.

Webster looks taken aback but then smiles again, shrugs one shoulder and says something, laying a hand on the other seat at Joe's table as if he's going to sit there. It's clearly a step too far. Joe grabs his coffee mug and appears to chug its contents before he pushes his chair back, it's legs screeching horribly against the floor, and gets up and turns away. Then he hesitates for a moment, turns back and snatches up the brownie before storming out.

Webster stares after him, mouth hanging open and he looks a little disappointed for a moment before he shakes his head and the smile returns as he turns to gaze out of the window.

Crazy.

Babe glances at the others around the table, Gene looks thoughtful, Renee is frowning and Spina has ignored the whole scene and is poking at his phone. "Part of me wants to ask for more details about what their deal is," Babe confesses, "But another part of me really doesn't think I want to know."

Renee shrugs. "I don't really know either of them, but that was peculiar. Gene?"

Gene shakes his head. "They shared a class as freshmen, got into some sort of disagreement over a project that they both took more to heart than seems appropriate for classmates, and never forgave each other."

Babe raises his eyebrows. "Seriously, all that yelling the other day started over a project? Damn, Doc, maybe you had a point about keeping your head down and out of drama if folks 'round here are blowing even little things up into big rows like that."

Renee raises her eyebrows at Gene. "What have you been telling him?"

Gene looks a little uncomfortable so Babe cuts in, "Nothing worse than what I'd already heard from Bill. And probably with a lot less embellishment too." The small smile Gene shoots his direction makes his heart leap a little, so he turns until Gene out of his line of sight. _That was being helpful to a new pal and stopping a misunderstanding,_ he tells himself _, c'mon Babe you've managed a perfectly respective conversation with him, don't go ruining it now with weird notions about him being charmed by your chivalrous defence_. He takes a sip of coffee, and focuses on Renee instead, "So this professor who looks like a walrus, you said he taught anatomy, so how does that end with a desk bein' on fire?"

Renee rubs her hands together gleefully. "Well, it started with a dispute about people wearing ties to their work placements-" she says.

By the time she's done Babe is in stiches, coffee gone cold in its mug, and Spina is wheezing against his shoulder. Gene is calmer, has the air of somebody who has heard this story a few times before, but his lips are curved into a small smile that makes the butterflies in Babe’s stomach flutter.

He can be cool. He's got this.

 

*****

 

It looks like it’s about to rain as Joe walks back from the campus IT help centre, where he’d been sorting out changing his university IT account passwords since according to them the one he’d been using before was ‘offensive’ and ‘not in line with the universities acceptable use policies for IT’, not matter how much Joe had protested that ‘fuckpasswordchanges123’ was a totally reasonable response to the insistence that they use a new and original password each academic year, as well as being both memorable and difficult to guess.

Despite the ominous weather, Nix and Luz are sitting on the porch of Padua house when Joe walks past, kicking through the leaves that are already starting to drop from the hedge that surrounds the yard. He’d go over and say hi, but he doesn’t have a jacket with him and he wants to get back to Messina before the weather takes a turn for the worse.

That doesn’t mean he doesn’t listen to their conversation as he goes by.

"No, he's got too much of a temper," Nix proclaims, although he sounds more like he’s assessing whoever he’s talking about than judging them.

"I can't believe this is still a problem. I figured a year away would be the end of it," Luz says with a sigh. "I mean it's just a crush right."

"I'm pretty sure Webster was expecting that too; he wouldn't have run off all the way to Europe if he thought he'd just wind up wasting away out there from pining."

Joe pauses. Webster, pining after somebody? He wonders what grade-A douchebag could somehow overcome Webster's snobbery enough that Web might work the stick out of his ass and engage in something as plebeian as having a crush.

"And you don't think there's any chance that Joe knows?"

Joe drops his phone as Nix laughs. He takes a deep breath a jabs a finger into his ear to check for wax build-up. That almost sounded like... no. That was crazy thinking.

"Knows and hasn't said anything? No chance," Nix says with a dismissive snort, "Liebgott's too busy playing at being a hard-ass to manage being tactful about Web's feelings, he'd just see it as a way to score points in their endless fight. It's for the best he's somehow managed to miss how Webster gets around him, better for Web to mope and be ignored than to be humiliated."

Joe doesn't know why they're talking like he is the bad guy here, when Webster is equally complicit in their arguing. It's- well they're talking about a guy who, after Joe had complained about him parking his car in Messina's driveway, had then left it there until Tuesday, which could only have been an act of spite. Also, what the hell kind of feelings could Webster have for him?

But then there's the ghost of the taste of chocolate and raspberry on his tongue, bringing with it the memory of Webster's awkward overtures over coffee the other day. The way he'd asked if Joe had got a place on all the classes he was hoping for, like he was looking for the lamest reasons to try and mock Joe, although to hear Luz and Nix now they'd probably have thought he was sincerely interested. But that's ridiculous.

Peering through the hedge, Joe watches as Luz leans back against the porch and sighs. "I just, hell, I feel bad for him really. You've seen him, he tries, in his learned-social-skills-from-books kinda way, but even on the times he doesn't shoot himself in the foot by being a nerd, Joe just shoots him down."

"It's for the best," Nix says, "They wouldn't really work out. Webster's all sensitive and shit, he needs a boyfriend who'd hold his hand and remember his favourite colour, stuff like that, and Liebgott… you know him better than I do, but let's be honest, he's really not that kind of guy."

And wow, is Nix projecting or what? Way to dump whatever difficulties he's having with Dick onto Joe's shoulders - sure handholding is just awkward and inconvenient, especially on busy streets, but even an idiot could tell that Webster's favourite colour was blue, because he was the kind of person who'd be so enamoured with the colour of his own eyes. It was the colour of at least two thirds of his clothes, all of his notebooks, and his car. The only way a person wouldn't be able to guess that would be if they were literally colour-blind.

Anyway, Joe knows for a fact the Webster is a stuck-up douchebag who thinks he's too good for Joe, and its honestly kind of shitty how everybody lets him get away with it. Oh, he knows how they could mistake him for innocent at first, Joe himself had been foolish enough to be pleased in Freshman year when he'd learned that his assigned partner for his German class group-project was the hot guy from his seminar who always sat in the front row of lectures and was weirdly unafraid to put his hand up and ask awkward and complicated questions that made the professor trip over himself trying not to admit he didn't know the answer, but then they'd had their very first planning session and he'd realised that Webster was a tool. They'd figured out a plan for the work, and one that would pretty much guarantee them an A, so Joe had suggested that they go out and celebrate getting off to such a good start, only to for Webster to blow him off in favour of rushing to the library to waste a perfectly good, sunny afternoon buried among stuffy, dusty books, working on an assignment that wasn't even due for weeks. Joe had tried to talk him into loosening up, and remind him that the project wouldn't take that much work - hell, if Joe had been looking to show off he could have pointed out that he was damn near fluent and could have done the whole thing solo in a few hours as long as there was somebody to keep him supplied with caffeine. But the thought of going out to have a little fun with Joe had made Webster wrinkle his nose in disgust, so fuck him. They'd completed the rest of the project separately, sharing their contributions by email and getting a B for the work, their professor claiming that they'd had good ideas but needed to communicate them in a clearer and more organised fashion.

"Yeah, well, then let’s hope things stay this way. Webster pining is embarrassing, but I don't even want to imagine how emo he'd get with a broken heart," Luz says. Joe doesn't know what he's bitching about. Webster is prone to melodrama, but if Luz is throwing phrases like 'broken heart' about then surely breaking out the eyeliner and early 2000s poetry would be right up his street. Joe finally clears his head enough to pick his phone up of the ground, examining it for damage. There’s yet another nick on the casing but the screen is un-cracked and lights up like usual when he taps it, so it looks like he’s had a lucky escape.

"He could sure use a distraction though," Luz remarks.

Nix hums. "You know, there was this one freshman who latched on and followed him home after the library tours, kind of a drippy kid but maybe somebody completely different from Joe or his usual godawful type the best idea."

That’s nonsense really. For one thing, Joe is still pretty sure that Luz and Nix have lost their marbles to even be suggesting that Webster’s contempt is cover for a crush, and for another, if he were as into Joe as Luz and Nix seem to be implying, some dumb kid is hardly going to win him over instead.

The door opens behind Nix and Luz and Dick walks out onto the porch, but the other two don’t seem to notice him until he says, “Are you talking about Webster?”

Luz and Nix both jump and share alarmed looks, and Joe feels a vicious satisfaction at that - looks like the assholes weren’t expecting to be caught gossiping.

“Uh… just about how… uh…” Nix blusters.

Luz has the quicker mouth. “I missed that second fight between him and Liebgott last weekend. We were just talking about how bad things were between them.”

Dick sighs, seating himself down next to Nix. “I only heard part of it, but I think they both said things they shouldn’t have. One of them is going to get badly hurt one of these days.”

Nix and Luz exchange looks again, and, unsurprisingly it’s Luz who speaks up, since Nix is hardly going to risk rocking the boat with Dick unnecessarily after all the work Nix put in to get with him. “I… they can both get a little mean for sure, but hurt? I mean, they can take care of themselves.”

Dick nods. “I know they _can_ , but that doesn’t stop me worrying as to if they _will_. I walked home with Webster, remember. As soon as we were out of the house he seemed less angry and more tired. Second guessing himself. This endless viciousness can't be doing either of them any good, it was bad enough how upset he used to get as a freshman."

Luz raises his eyebrows. "How upset he used to get?"

"Nix, do you remember?" Dick says and Nix pulls a face.

"Honestly I just used to try and distract the kid when he started moping about the place, before he dragged everybody else down with him."

"I had to tell him to hang tough more than a couple of times," Dick shakes his head. "Liebgott's got a temper, but he's a good guy, I can't imagine him meaning for Webster to take the stuff he says to heart as much as he does."

Ha! At least Dick doesn't think that Joe is acting like a hateful asshole.

“They’re a lot alike,” Dick continues, and from where Joe is standing Luz and Nix seem as confused by this remark as he is. Joe and Webster are nothing alike; they could hardly be more opposite. “They both cover their feelings by acting off-putting, but they feel things deeply. If they could just be upfront with each other, I think they’d be good for each other, but that’s not likely.”

It's strange hearing it coming from Dick whose douchebag perception only has one blind spot, and that's in the exact shape of Lewis Nixon. Luz and Nix, they're just assholes looking to talk shit about people, but Dick seems genuinely concerned, about Webster and Joe both. Suddenly everything Joe’s heard feels a whole lot realer.

There’s at least one thread of what he’s heard that he knows to be true, and that is that Webster is kind of awful at normal social interaction, and that makes it completely believable that if Webster did like somebody he’d probably handle it terribly.

If Joe’s honest with himself, he can admit he’s made a point of provoking Webster in most of their interactions since that fateful first snub. It seems strange to think it, but suddenly he’s wondering if perhaps there is a reason that everybody else seems to think that there’s some good to Webster. How might he act around Joe if not incited to anger as soon he entered his presence? Joe can’t kid himself that Webster isn’t a good-looking guy, if you were into button downs with rolled up sleeves the revealed surprisingly toned arms for a guy who never lifted anything heavier than a textbook, but his scowls and distance had always counteracted any appeal. But, what would it be like if they could set aside the awkwardness, if Joe could get around the walls they’ve both been putting up between them, to see what Webster was like when he was at ease?

Questions hang heavy on his mind as he continues his walk home.

 

*****

 

Joe Toye's infamous heirloom truck had nearly died on him three times while he was driving back up after the break, and nearly made him a day late back to campus. As he’d explained to George, he’d taken it to three different garages during the week looking for a fix, even though everybody knew that the real problem with it was that it was older than they are.

Still, the last mechanic claimed to have tweaked the engine enough to keep it hanging on a little longer and got rid of the annoying engine rattle to boot. So Joe had invited George out for a test drive, "Because I want to check the job is legit so it doesn't crap out on me a month from now and this guy tries to make like it's my fault not just a shitty repair job. And I'm so goddamn used to that one weird engine noise I don't even hear it anymore, so you're gonna have to give me a second opinion on that."

George had no plans, and it sounded like the easiest favour in the world to do, so he’d hopped into the truck’s cab and they'd spent a few hours driving around town, windows down and Joe's favourite classic rock station blaring, no weird engine noises to be found, as Joe pretended not to be amused by George's witty commentary on the people they pass. It's a waste of gas but fun, and while it's not like he'd wish more car trouble on Joe, George is kind of hoping that that maybe Joe'll need a few more test drives, particularly around midterms and finals, because this, this feels like the chillest sort of daydream.

They're headed back in the direction of campus when Joe pulls into a gas station, a glance over at the dash showed he didn’t really need to fill up yet, but George supposes it make sense since the closer you got to campus the higher the gas prices rose.

Joe glances over at George as he climbs out of the cab. "You want anything?"

"Uh... yeah, actually, I'm low on smokes," George fishes a crumpled ten out of pocket, "That should cover it."

Joe nods and accepts the bill, then gets to pumping gas, leaving George to look out of the window and resist the temptation to fiddle with the radio.

To George's slight surprise, he recognises Lipton standing on the other side of forecourt, he's got his phone in one hand, and in the other is holding a gas station branded carrier bag even though there’s no other cars in sight.

It seems like Lip's barely been around the house the past few days, George hasn't had a single opportunity to make a start with his plan to get Lip on a date, so as Joe heads in to buy George's smokes and pay for gas, George hops out of the truck and jogs across the tarmac to catch up with Lip.

"Hey! Lip, fancy seeing you all the way out here."

"Luz?" Lip says, looking a little startled to see him, but then he smiles and nods. “Just picking up some milk and stuff,” he says, gesturing vaguely with the bag.

George frowns. There were no big grocery stores on campus, but there were more than a few corner shops which would definitely offer a more convenient source of such essentials. “I didn’t know we were out, there was nothing written on the house grocery list or I’d have picked ‘em up while I was out.”

"Ah... no, this isn't for the house," Lips says.

"Oh god, tell me you aren't making yourself the most weirdly wholesome and boring snack," George teases and Lipton laughs.

“I’m not about to sit down and start eating dry bread and milk, if that’s what you mean,” Lip says.

“Just checking,” George says with a wink. He’s been thinking and the thing is, that this whole plan to set Lip up with somebody sounded easy after a few beers when he was just talking in hypotheticals, but standing face to face with him George has no clue where to start. Liebgott and Webster were easily manipulated, it was all a matter of playing with their nosiness and egos, but Lip wasn't so gullible. And then there's the question of who he'd even set Lip up with - he's been mulling it over for a few days but he hasn't come to any sort of useful conclusion. It's enough to make him consider Bill's suggestion that George take Lip out himself. There's something to it. He's not sure he's going to get very far by flirting with Lip, but it’s easier than orchestrating a set up and it'll at least give him a feel for what sort of approach Lip might be receptive to so that whomever George eventually choses will be appropriate.

"So..." he says, looking Lip up and down and trying to smile alluringly, "I don't think I ever asked, how was your summer?"

"You did," Lip says blandly, "Though I don't blame you for forgetting, it wasn't very interesting. I was working at the B&B, same as every summer."

Now he mentions it, that probably had come up, it was just so routine that it hadn't really registered. Still, "I bet you meet a lot of interesting people though, anybody catch your eye?"

That earns him a laugh. "It's Huntington, not a Hollywood Hilton. Our client base is mostly pensioners who like receiving the sort of old fashioned service they remember from their youth."

"Oh my god, you've spent your whole summer getting your cheeks pinched by old ladies, haven't you?" George cackles, which is not exactly a sexy direction to take the conversation in but he can't help himself.

"I've got pretty good at dodging attempts at pinching," Lip remarks, with a small grin, " And it happens a lot less than it did when I was a kid. These days they usually just talk about how I'm a nice young man and how I should meet their granddaughters; or occasionally their grandsons, though that's rarer."

“Any of the grandkids sound hot?”

Lip looks judgemental which is unfair, because it’s not _that_ unreasonable of a question, and even though Lip strikes George as the type to claim that looks aren’t important even he had to have preferences.

"Well if they were, their grandparents didn’t say so. Not that I’m not enjoying this catch up, but I can’t hang around much longer or this milk is going to go warm,” Lip says, gesticulating with his carrier bag.

Although it's September, it is a warm afternoon and if Lip is headed all the way back to campus on foot the milk will have gone warm by the time he arrives anyway. "Me an' Joe are headed back towards campus after this," he says, "So if you want a ride..."

Lip shakes his head. "No, I'm... meeting someone just up the road from here. It'd be out of your way, I can walk."

"Meeting somebody?" George asks. They're not that far from campus, but George knows none of their friends live in this part of town - it's too quiet of a neighbourhood to be appealing to most students, except the most anti-social types, "What, are you in a study group before classes have even started?"

Lip laughs awkwardly, and if George isn't mistaken his cheeks look like they're turning ever so slightly red.

"Oh, c'mon seriously?" he asks, "You're a straight A student, you don’t need to be studying yet.”

“I’m not studying,” Lip declares, “I mean we’ll talk about the course reading, but only because it’s interesting.”

George likes his major well enough, but he can’t imagine liking it enough to incorporate it into his social life, but hell, maybe hospitality and management classes have really exciting textbooks filled with details about the kind of shenanigans that people get up to in hotels, though it seems unlikely. Lip’s minor in in history, which is hardly any better.

“You honestly baffle me,” George confesses. In more ways than one. “You sure you don’t want a ride. Joe won’t mind swinging by wherever you’re headed.” He’ll probably make a show of being grudging about it, but that’s only to discourage people from asking favours of him too often, George knows he doesn’t mind really, and Lip is hardly the kind of guy to get into the habit of taking advantage.

"No, it's fine,” Lip says, “It’s not far and I could use the walk.”

"Alright, well, see you back home," George says with a wave, and Lip offers his own goodbyes before heading in the direction of the housing estate.

George head back across the lot and is hopping back into the truck’s cab just as Joe exits store, and a moment later Joe's back in the driver’s seat.

"Here," Joe says, dumping a carton of smokes into George's lap, along with his change and a bottle of chocolate milk. It's chilly.

"You developing a sweet tooth, buddy?" George teases, offering the bottle back, he's gonna get a lot of millage out of this after all the times Joe pulled faces at the sugary 'crap' George consumes.

"Hell no," Joe shakes his head vehemently, "You can keep that shit."

George isn't sure why he bought the bottle if he doesn't want it, unless there was a promotion on or something, but chocolate is his greatest weakness - he gets worse cravings for it that he does nicotine - so he’s not complaining as he unscrews the cap and takes a deep swig. “Thanks Joe,” he says as Joe starts the engine, “You’re a pal.”

They pull out of the gas station and Joe takes the turn back towards campus, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. George raises his eyebrows. "You okay there?"

Joe scowls. "Fine," he remarks, taking advantage of a stop sign to rub at his leg. "It's just my damn leg, the liner is all bunched up in the socket. I didn't notice it until I stood up, but now it itches like hell."

"Ah," George says. Joe was having trouble with his socket at the end of last semester and kept saying that he was going to see his prosthetist about getting it refitted, just as soon as his summer job meant he had the cash. "That still not sorted."

"I got re-measured," Joe says, "Apparently it was sitting wrong because I'd gained too much muscle mass," that George can believe, Joe seems to get fitter as the time, and he was already in better shape that most of their peers when George had first met him in freshman year, "But you know how it is with waiting lists and all that shit, it'll probably be thanksgiving before I actually get the new socket - I'm just doubling up on liners in the meantime."

“Damn, sound like a drag,” George says.

Joe shrugs, “Yeah, but it’s the usual drag, so whatever. I saw you wandering around on the forecourt by the way, what did you feel like stretching your legs or something?”

"Or something,” George answers. “I saw Lip, so I went over to say hi."

"What was he doing all the way out here?"

"I'm pretty sure it was a study group, although he wouldn't admit to it," George says. "I think this whole plan to get Lip's love life squared away enough for Babe to have a shot with Doc is gonna be trickier that I first thought. I tried flirting with him a bit, get a feel for what he might like, and honestly it was kind of a wash."

"You..." Joe clears his throat, "You were flirting with Lip? I thought we'd agreed that was a shitty plan, and you were gonna find him someone... else."

"I tried to. Didn't have much luck, I just sort of treated him like normal," George confesses. Hell, no wonder he has so little luck getting a date, when he apparently doesn't have the first clue how to flirt. Stereotypical types of flirting like joking around and casual touching are just normal ways to interact with friends for him. "And I mean, it's not like I was expecting him to swoon into my arms or anything. I just wanted to work out who he might be responsive to. I mean, he had that long-distance girlfriend back home when he met him, but I never met her, and even though he's said he's bi, he never dated anyone else after they broke up, which makes working out his type kind of a challenge." Joe makes a vague, disinterested sort of hum, but George presses on. “Hey, you said you were in on helping get Lip set up to ease the way for Babe. What do you think Lip’s into?”

“Look, I’m going along with the plan in the sense that I’m not going to stop you from being a dumbass,” Joe grumbles, “But if you think I’m gonna enable it by sitting here and giving you tips on how to seduce Lipton… no.”

“Hey, hey now, flirt with, not seduce,” George defends, “I’m just looking to score data to set up him up with somebody he’d be receptive to, which after today’s washout I can pretty much confirm isn’t me. So, I’ll have to try some other plan.”

“Whatever,” Joe says, and cranks the volume up higher on the radio.

Contrary to popular belief, George can take a hint. He shuts up.


	3. Chapter 3

Joe almost turns around when he walks into his favourite sandwich place on campus and sees Webster sitting at a table by the counter with a stack of books. As hard as he's tried to put what he'd overheard from Nix, Dick, and Luz out of his mind, thoughts of Webster's alleged crush keep sneaking up on him whenever he lets he mind wander. He's curious, but there's more to it than that. If what he's heard is true, then he's got more power over Webster than he knew, yet he finds what he most wants to do about it is prove Nix and Luz wrong. Whether Webster is the asshole he's always seemed to be, or if he's just plain weird, Joe can and will be the one to rise above their bickering and prove himself the better person.

Still, he figured he'd have time to come up with a game plan before running into Webster again. It's a big campus, but always, always, Webster seems to be exactly where Joe doesn't want him.

For a moment, he contemplates stealth. It's not busy, but the shop isn't empty either, he'd been planning to eat in but if he just got his sandwich and left he might be able to make it out without Webster spotting him or him having to admit he's noticed Webster.

Then Webster looks up and Joe freezes, feeling like those kids from Jurassic park - if he doesn't move, maybe Webster will look right past him. Instead, Webster smiles at him. It's uncharacteristic and the weirdness of it makes his stomach twist. There's a part of him that wants to leave, to not think about what he heard and to hold tight to the easy habit of resenting Webster, but there's a bigger part of him that wants to find out for himself in Nix and Luz knew what they were talking about. And if they were right... no, that's a mental road Joe isn't willing to go down. It's probably all just a misunderstanding anyway.

He walks up to the counter and gets himself a chicken on white - simple, cheap, and hard for even the newest freshman employees to fuck up - before steeling himself and approaching Webster. Webster's sandwich is something on wholemeal bread, with more salad spilling out the sides than Joe thinks anybody should put in a sandwich in the first place, which is another point for the column of reasons why Webster is not to be trusted, but Joe is still going to be the bigger person so he pulls out the other seat at the table and sits down.

Webster blinks at him from across the table.

They sit in silence for what feels like forever, though it's more like less than two minutes. Not days ago Webster was happy to interrupt Joe's personal time with his coffee just to make bland small talk, but of course now that Joe wants to speak with him Webster has nothing to say.

"You finally moved your fucking car," Joe eventually blurts out.

Webster looks momentarily startled but then shrugs and says, "Yeah. I needed to buy shelves."

Of course. He wouldn't move it because it's the decent thing to do, he's done it because it benefits him. “I’ve seen inside your house, you have loads of shelves,” Joe points out, “What do you need more for?”

“I have more books. And one of the shelves broke so-" Webster pauses to bite into his sandwich and, not for the first time, Joe contemplates the fact the Webster is at his most likable when his mouth is occupied with things other than talking. He ends up taking an overlarge bite himself and nearly choking on his own sandwich when his brain offers up the memory of thoughts he'd previously had about ways that Webster's mouth could be occupied. It really isn't fair that someone with such a terrible personality has such good looks.

Joe told himself he was going to have a normal conversation with Webster, but the truth is he doesn’t even know where to start. As far as he can see the only two things they have in common are arguing and that disastrous German class where Webster had first turned his nose up at Joe, neither of which seem like avenues to decent conversation. He settles for a lame, “So what’s your class schedule like?” because why not subject himself to awkward small talk just for the sake of proving a point.

“The classes aren’t too bad, I’m only take one extra credit course, but I'm doing freshmen library inductions so that’s keeping me pretty busy," Webster explains.

Joe frowns. "I don't remember those in our freshman year. I mean, instructions on how to use the library?" Joe says incredulously. "Who needs instructions? You go to the shelf, you take the books you want, and then you read them. What is there that needs explaining?"

"They've run for years and they're voluntary but very important. If you ever actually went in the library you'd know," Webster snaps and Joe grins because this, at least, is easy and familiar.

"They can’t be that important," Joe points out, "If I've managed to get to junior year just fine without one."

"Just fine? You-" Webster's teeth catch on his lower lip and Joe watches as he visibly reins himself in. "Maybe you didn't need one but plenty of people do," he says tersely and Joe thinks he might have just tricked Webster into complimenting his intelligence.

“Shouldn’t that be the librarians job anyway?” he asks, “Or are you just trying to infiltrate their ranks to get out of hours access to the books.” He feels a flash of triumph when Web laughs. Webster doesn’t really laugh often, but what Joe had once seen as humourlessness upon second thought might just be a peculiar sense of humour, an inclination towards the sharp and subtle that makes Joe wonder how many times Webster has made jokes only to be met with the blank stares of people who've taken his words at face value.

 “I suppose it’s their responsibility, but they’re too busy – or rather, there isn’t enough of them since the budget cuts. Anyway, they delegate to volunteers, and if giving up a few a hours a week to help reduces the number of freshman making a nuisance of themselves by using the library wrong for the rest of the year then it is definitely worth it.”

Joe smiles as he swallows the last of his sandwich. Using the library _wrong_. He imagines that Webster’s definition of that is pretty broad, and probably goes way past the ‘stop trying to hook up in the stacks, you aren’t that quiet’ that Joe had hollered at a freshman couple during last year’s finals and includes strict instructions on not having noisy laptop fans or turning pages too aggressively.

Webster is also done with his lunch, and they both stand to leave at the same time, crossing the room in matched steps. It's a whim that makes Joe knock his shoulder against Webster's as they exit the shop, not quite gentle enough to be affectionate but not hard enough to hurt either, just a casual nudge. "See ya around Web," he says, before breaking off to head in Messina's direction. As he turns he can see Webster duck his head and smile and Joe's stomach twists again.

Maybe they’d found a way to fuck up his sandwich after all.

 

*****

 

Babe’s enjoying an afternoon sunning himself on the central lawn without anybody nagging him about sunscreen, and getting ahead on his class reading, when he spots Roe and waves to him as he passes by. He’s not expecting much, maybe a wave back, perhaps a called-out greeting, though Roe doesn’t seem the type to holler across a crowd. He’s startled then, as Roe swings off the path and approaches him. Gene is elegant as he settles onto the grass, and his quiet greeting of, “Heffron,” is enough make Babe’s stomach clench embarrassingly.

“What are you doing?” he asks and Babe holds up the textbook in his hand.

“Architecture?” Gene says, sounding surprised. That’s nothing new. Nobody seems to think that Babe is cut out for his architecture major – it’s a long course of study and Babe knows he comes across as flighty, but that's only with casual things. When it comes to what matters he can be as committed as anyone.

"Yeah, and, well I'm doing a minor in planning too," he adds with a shrug. He’s been reading the textbooks since he got them as he’s pretty excited to get stuck into the classes, but whenever he says that people look at him like he’s grown a second head, so he keeps his mouth shut.

Gene already looks somewhat confused by this revelation. "Huh, wouldn't have guessed you for an architect."

"Yeah, I get that a lot," Babe agrees, "But growing up where I did in Philly, I dunno, I just always had a sense the places a person spends their time in are important. It’s all a big cycle of the people creating and shaping the places they want to live, but then those places shape how people see the world and interact with it. Like the subconscious impact of design flows...” Gene is giving him a slightly bug-eyed look, like he wasn’t actually expecting Babe to geek out on him. Babe waves a hand dismissively, letting his textbook fall shut. “Well, anyway… whatever.” Gene frowns a little, and Babe doesn’t like it. He shouldn’t have started rambling about Philly, Gene knows Bill and has Spina in his house – he’s bound to have heard plenty of that already without Babe boring him. Time for a subject change. “How are your classes going?”

Gene blinks, levels a look at Babe that he can only describe as _slow_ , before he says. “They’re alright. Medicine doesn’t have the same ease-in weeks of a lot of courses, so I’m getting plenty of assignments.”

“Guess I shouldn’t keep you then,” Babe jokes.

“Yeah, I gotta get to class,” Gene says, with the smallest of sighs. “But it was nice seeing you.” He peels himself off the grass with the same elegance of his descent.

“Okay, see you around,” Babe answers, fighting back a blush at the thought of Gene being pleased to see him, even if Babe had made a fool of himself.

 

*****

 

David knows something has drastically changed when he runs into Liebgott in the campus cafeteria and instead of avoiding his gaze or glaring Joe catches his eye, nodding towards the empty seats at his table in a clear invitation.

He briefly considers pretending not to have seen, he knows it would be rude but half the reason he's in the cafeteria is because he's at the edge of his temper after spending two hours getting sent back and forth been campus office buildings because his schedule had him spending Tuesday mornings in two places at once and when he'd finally resolved it his plans to curl up with a book until he was no longer on the verge of tearing out his hair had been interrupted by a phone call from his mother which had been...

…well he'd left the house after snapping at a totally undeserving Lipton for stirring his coffee too loudly, and as much as David wants to stick to his resolution to be more civil with Joe he's pretty sure now isn't the time to test that.

He has to sit somewhere though and blanking Joe is hardly a step towards being nicer to him.

He places the tray opposite Joe, it landing with an unruly clatter as he slides onto the hard plastic bench. He doesn't really like the cafeteria, with its cheap seats and greasy foods made even less appetising by the glow of harsh flickering neon lights, and he knew most others felt the same, it was why he'd been so sure that it was a good place to come in order to be left alone.

But here Liebgott is happily tucking into an oddly limp looking chicken burger.

It's frankly suspicious.

“What are you doing in here?” he asks.

“It’s cheaper than a restaurant and I can’t eat at the house right now - Muck and Penkala keep staring at me and whispering,” Joe says with a shrug. “And then Malarkey will join them and they’ll all start laughing and tell me it’s nothing whenever I ask. It’s kinda unnerving when a guy is trying to eat.”

That does sound quite off-putting and makes Webster glad that Luz has no co-conspirators in Padua house – they’re a miraculously prank free zone, the combined powers of Dick and Lip serving to keep chaos at bay.

“Better question,” Joe remarks. “What are _you_ doing here? I would never have guessed that cafeteria food would suit your palate.”

“I wanted to suffer in peace,” David declares. “The entire English department seems to be inexplicably convinced that if I were really committed to my studies then surely I’d find a way to be in two places at once.”

“And how is that working out for you?”

David stares at him, hoping that’s enough to make his point about not being left in peace. Although Liebgott isn’t being the nuisance he could be. David sighs. “At least you aren’t going on about making a window in the timetable until I’m fighting the urge to defenestrate somebody.”

“Defene-,” Joe’s brow crinkles. Absently, David can’t help notice that it’s sort of cute. “What?”

“Defenestrate,” he repeats, rubbing as his temple. “To throw out of a window. Since they’re so enamoured of them.”

Joe laughs, and he’s got an unexpectedly nice laugh when it’s in response to one of David’s jokes rather than at the expense of his existence. Instead of the vicious little smirk that David has seen before, Joe’s mouth stretches into a broad grin and he tosses his head back. “Fuck, Web,” he says, “I didn’t know you had it in you.”

David can't resist the temptation to return the grin, heartbeat picking up a little. He'd only meant to be friendly, but now that Liebgott has relaxed his attitude a little it's hard not to think about the attraction between them, because David can't deny that it goes both ways, it just that previously the shallow attraction had been an insignificant thing when coupled with years of dislike. But seeing Joe so relaxed and enthusiastic is fanning the sparks that David initially felt into something bigger and harder to ignore.

Could it be that Liebgott really has changed for the better?

 

*****

 

George is in line to get coffee after his fourth class of the morning, wondering what higher power he pissed off to make Tuesdays so hellish, when the aforementioned higher power decides to do him a favour and Lip joins the line behind him.

“Hee-eey,” he says, word half interrupted by a yawn. “How you doing?”

"Same as when you saw me at breakfast," Lip says, amused, and George rolls his eyes.

"Love that you thought I was processing information that early in the morning," George says, "But no."

Lip laughs and once they have their coffee George is anticipating that they'll sit together and they do, but George had barely had time to take a sip of his coffee before Lip is distracted by something over George's shoulder and begins gathering up his things, coffee barely touched.

"Woah, Lip, don't forget your coffee," he says.

Lipton pauses for a moment, then pulls a travel mug from his bag, transferring his drink into it. George stares simultaneously in awe of and totally unsurprised by the fact that Lip is prepared for this exact eventuality.

“Sorry George, I gotta go talk to Ron about a thing,” he says. “We’ll have to catch up later.”

He’s gone before George can even ask who ‘Ron’ is, never mind what Lip would need to run off so urgently to talk to him about. The only Ron George knows on campus is Lip’s old history T.A Ronald Speirs, and god knows with his reputation _nobody_ would be in a hurry to talk to him.

But George doesn’t find himself alone for long. He’s barely half finished his coffee when Joe flops down into Lipton’s vacated seat. “What are you frowning about?”

“Lip,” George answers. A month ago George would have said he knew Lip well, but trying to get a read on his romantic interest is turning out to be a lot harder than anticipated.

Joe sighs. “Right. This again.”

“He’s impossible," George complains, "I didn’t think setting him up would be this hard, but he doesn't seem interested in anyone.”

“Do you really need to? I mean just to set an example to Doc?” George still hasn’t been able to really sell Joe on the merits of the plan and it shows.

"Well if Doc is copying Lip then he needs to see..." George stops, struck by understanding. "Oh of course! You're a genius Joe."

What Doc sees is important, the truth – not so much. George doesn't have to actually get Lip in a relationship, he just to make it look like he is.

And that should be easy.

Lipton is a trusting guy, and it often pretty lax about leaving his laptop around the house still logged on. For anybody else that would have resulted in them having two hundred bucks’ worth of dildos delivered to them or some other equally embarrassing prank, but Lip was just too damn nice to fuck with and so he’d been left alone, but that meant he’d never learnt to take precautions. It would be easy as pie for George to get on there and change his relationship status – Roe would be able to see it but Lip hardly ever used his facebook, George could change it back in a few weeks and Lip would never even need to know.

"I'm a genius?" Joe says, perplexed. But George is already chugging his coffee and grabbing his backpack off the ground. “Wait. You’re going?" Joe seems tense but George can’t imagine why. He’s used to Joe sometimes getting frustrated trying to meet the standards he holds himself to when it comes to assignments, but it’s too early in the semester for that; and sometimes when his leg is being particularly difficult it wears his patience down, but he’d seemed fine up till now; and despite the assumptions other people might make based on Joe’s chronic case of resting bitch face, he’s normally quite chill. This irritability is unprecedented and merits investigation. But right now, George is on a deadline.

“Yeah, gotta do this while I know Lip is out,” George explains. It’s kind of a dick move doing to Joe what Lip had just done to him, but it’s not like Joe will mind. “See you!”

 

*****

 

Babe's checked the class schedules posted in the hall, so he knows Bill isn't busy, but his key is missing from its hook and he’d mentioned having plans with Luz later that afternoon, so Babe isn't going to try and predict when he'll be back. Babe doesn’t quite know what Luz’s deal with, he seems to spend more time in Messina than at his own place, and Babe's not quite sure why didn't just apply for a room there, since Babe had got one of two open rooms there and it's hardly like the guys already living there would have declined him a place when he was obviously so tight with them all. But he’s not prying. He’s quickly learning that Gene was right and the campus was a drama-fest he wanted nothing to do with. Fortunately, Muck's keys are also absent. Babe is a tough Philly guy who grew up with four siblings, and learning to hold his own with Bill goddamn Guarnere, and he knows how to handle teasing, and how to serve it back to whoever is dishing it out, but right now he's at his wits end with Muck, who derives excessive amusement from Babe's unfortunate crush on Eugene and has an awful tendency to be hanging about every time Babe runs into Gene and makes a fool of himself by being too obvious about his crush. Malarkey and Penkala are a nuisance too, but Skip is the worst of them. Gene's generous efforts to ignore Babe's flushing and staring aren't much use when Babe is reminded of his foolishness every time he comes home. He's trying his best to be cool about everything but he's starting to think his mom had it completely wrong when she said sticking with Bill and his friends would make the transition to college easier - after all, the only one of Bill's college buddies she'd met was Joe Toye who made a far less troublesome impression than any of the others would.

Joe Toye who is reading in the lounge when Babe flops face down on the couch with a sigh.

“Rough day?” he asks.

Babe nods into the cushions. “I ran into Gene in the cafeteria and ended up spilling milk all down my jacket like a kid. Tell me it’s gonna get easier.”

“Depends what you do," Joe says, sagely. "In the end a person either wants you or they don't. You can try and encourage an interest, but you can't make 'em if they just don't see you that way."

Babe pushes himself up onto his elbows. “I don’t care about making him like me, or, not like that anyway. I just want to stop getting so goddamn flustered so I can be his friend without him thinking I’m a complete moron.”

Joe gives a gravelly laugh. "You do what’s right for you. If you think you can be his friend and get over it, then go for it. But don't get yourself into a mess of being stuck on him and around him all the time so you can't even move on where there's no chance."

Babe frowns. That sounds like the voice of experience, but he only really knows Joe as Bill's friend and he's not got the impression that Joe's a guy quick to share personal details even with people he's close to. "He's not the first attractive person I've been friends with," Babe declares. "I know plenty of good looking people, and I'll meet more. I can get over this crush."

Joe nods approvingly. "Good luck, kid."

 

*****

 

Joe feels horrendously nerdy going into the library in the first week of classes before he’s even been given any assignments, but he’s got all his reading lists so it’s time to see how many of his textbooks the library has and claim them for himself. He’ll wrack up penalty fees keeping them for the whole semester, but in plenty of cases that’ll still be cheaper than buying the books outright. The library is laid out with one floor for each Dewey Decimal class, which makes a certain amount of sense but leaves him in the annoying positon of having to get half his books on the ground floor and the other half on the sixth. The elevators are always busy so once he’s done on the sixth he cuts down the back stairs and he’s just passing the fourth floor when he happens to spot two familiar heads clustered with an unfamiliar one. He glances down at his watch. He’s got twenty minutes until his next class and it’ll only take him five to get there. Making a snap decision, he tucks his books under one arm and crosses the library floor.

"Hey Nix, Web," he says, then eyes up the new guy. Joe is about eighty percent sure he's never seen this guy in his life before, but there's a little uncertainty because the guy has a really bland looking face and hasn't even bothered to cultivate any sort of distinguishing features like a weird haircut or eccentric dress sense.

"This is Henry," Webster says, "He's a freshman."

Henry the freshman waves one hand in an awkward wave. He looks terrified. Good.

Nix looks like he’d trying not to laugh. He’s not doing a good job of it. Joe turns to him. “So what are _you_ doing in the library this-”

“So the shelves are numbered from north to south?” the freshman says, he’s talking to Webster not Nix or Joe but it’s still an interruption.

“I… How about I’ll just show you where the book you need is?” Webster says, and Joe is familiar enough with his annoyance to pick out the exasperation in his tone, but Henry the freshman seems oblivious, just nods and lets Webster lead him into the stacks.

"So you're hanging out with random freshmen now?" Joe asks Nix dubiously. Nix hates new freshmen to a ridiculous degree, even more so that Joe does, Nix claimed their naiveté and eagerness gave him headaches.

"Who, Jones? Not voluntarily. He basically followed Webster home," Nix says. "And now he just keeps showing up places. I think the kid is a bit star struck, I'm actually getting kind of a kick watching him fall over himself with admiration because just Webster knows how to use the computer catalogue. Webster's certainly enjoying the flattery."

Joe frowns. A few weeks ago, he would have said that he wasn't surprised that Webster was getting his fun showing off basic skills to a dumb kid, and that he didn't need his ego flattering any further, but now he's annoyed for a whole different set of reasons. It sounds like this is the kid that Nix and Luz were talking about setting Webster up with, and frankly it's an insult. The kid looks like he's got about as much personality as a used dishcloth and his ears are funny looking. Plus, he’s a fucking freshman. Webster is miles out of his league, Joe's pretty sure even at the worst of their fighting that still would have been obvious. Nix is supposed to be friends with Webster, but even as a joke the suggestion of him hooking up with this kid seems unflattering to Webster, who could do a lot better. Joe, just for example. “He sounds annoying,” Joe concludes and Nix laughs.

“Yeah that too,” he agrees, “But what can you do?”

Web and the freshman are making their way back over when the answer to that question hits Joe. “Hey Web,” he says, "Wanna get dinner on Friday?"

Webster glances from Joe to Nix, looking puzzled. Nix shrugs and shakes his head, and Webster looks at Joe warily. “O-kay… sure.”

"Meet you at The Blue Room at around seven?" Joe says, and Webster's eyes widen a little at the location. Nobody goes to The Blue Room for a casual bite. But then he smiles again, the stupid one with his mouth half open that makes him look a bit vacant and Joe only ever sees him use when he’s surprised, but suits him better than his usual blandly attractive but insincere looking one.

"I... can we make it a little later?" Webster says, "I have a study group until six-thirty, so seven would be a rush."

A study group on a Friday night? Joe rolls his eyes. "Of course you do," he says, "Okay, is eight late enough for you?"

Webster nods. "Eight works. Do you want to meet there or do you want me to come by in my car and pick you up?"

Joe contemplates it. The Blue Room isn't a huge distance away, but it's not so close that he wouldn't appreciate a ride. Also, he still thinks Webster’s car is stupid, but that doesn’t mean he can’t appreciate the opportunities for privacy it might present. Once the only reason he might have wanted to get Webster alone would have been for the vague possibility of being able to get away with killing him, but now Joe has other things in mind. "No point you going out of your way, how about I stop by yours and you can drive from there?"

“Okay,” Webster says. “It’s uhh… it’s a date.”

Joe grins. Take that, Henry the freshman.

He saunters into the elevator and makes his way to class. But even as he’s sitting listening to his professor droning about equations he can’t focus on anything but the fact that, against all reason and odds, he has a date with David Webster. He needs to vent about this insanity, but fuck, there's not a single one of his friends who wouldn't laugh themselves silly to hear his thoughts. He pulls a few spares sheets of paper from his backpack. After all, what better way to rant about writer-boy than in the medium which he was so obsessed with?


	4. Chapter 4

His Friday afternoon study group is probably the least productive study session David has ever had.

It's ridiculous really, because he's been to The Blue Room before and it's nice but it's still a student place, nothing like the five star restaurants he goes to with his family, there's no reason to be so excited. And, perhaps more importantly, it's just Liebgott. David has seen the guy snorting beer out of his nose, seen him with the faint outlines of questionable words and pictures drawn on his face where the permanent marker wouldn't scrub out of his skin during Messina's freshman prank war, heard his voice crack like an adolescent when he wore his throat out with yelling when their arguments got out of hand. Conversely, Lieb has seen David as a hungover mess after passing out on the couch at a party, seen the way his skin goes all red and blotchy when he's worked up in their fights, once laughed at him slipping on a pile of wet leaves and dropping all his books as he fell on his ass. Since they've seen the worst of each other, surely there's nothing to be so nervous about, and yet David can't focus on anything but the coil of anticipation in his chest.

If someone had told him a few weeks ago he'd be feeling any emotion towards Liebgott other than anger, he'd have been dismissive. If they told him he'd be eager to the point of being able to think of nothing but the prospect of a date with him, it would have sounded like madness.

Now, as he's entering the front door to Padua house after two wasted hours of trying to focus on the words of a book he'd studied once already in high school when there's thoughts of Lieb's sharp laugh and elegant hands to distract him, the possibility that he might finally find out if those red lips are as soft as they look, if Lieb kisses as rough as he talks or as soft as his eyes, it’s almost hard to remember that he ever felt any other way about him.

The house is quiet and empty as he enters. Normally it would be peaceful, but today David is hoping that somebody will turn up just so he can get a second option on his preparations, or at least a distraction from this sudden inexplicable attack of nerves. He’s pretty sure that Roe and Spina have their own study group, and Luz is most likely at Messina, where he spends more time than he ever does in his own room. Hoobler has hit it off with somebody in his art requirement class and had been planning on heading into town to catch a movie, and Dick has gone to visit his sister for her birthday weekend and has taken Nix with him. Lip is usually around on a Friday night, but is nowhere to be seen tonight.

It's just past seven-thirty so he has half an hour to prepare, or more likely a little longer, since Lieb has never shown much inclination towards punctuality. When he gets to his room it's already a mess of discarded clothes where he'd fussed over what to wear that morning, but now he's back he knows he's going to have to change because even though it's just Lieb and there's nothing wrong with what David's wearing, he has this ridiculous urge to make the extra effort to be impressive, even though he's pretty sure that if Lieb knew it took effort he'd laugh.

Anything that’s been tossed on the floor is clearly out because despite the temptation to second guess the morning’s decisions they’ll all be creased now and this isn’t the time for David to start ironing things. There are a few items left hanging in his closet, things that he ruled out as being unsuitable for the day’s classes – some jeans he’d bought online and misjudged the sizing of that sat a little too low and tight on his hips for everyday wear, but they’re no good because the last thing he needs is to feel more self-conscious; a cashmere sweater that’s as soft as it is stylish, but seems like the kind of thing that Lieb would mock; and his two best dress shirts, one blue and one black, that he ruled out on the grounds of being overly formal, but perhaps if he paired them with jeans…

He pulls them out of the closet holding each of them up to himself in turn as he examined himself in the mirror, trying not to think too hard about the foolishness of coming over so for Lieb’s sake. He likes the blue shirt, but he’s not sure if it actually looks better, or if his personal preferences are getting in the way of his judgment. Sighing, he discards both shirts, and tries on the too tight jeans, which fit just a poorly as he remembers them doing, once again contemplating how inconvenient it was that he couldn’t get a second option, although even if somebody was in he’d undoubtedly be mocked for asking. That’s when he hears the creaking sound of the front door opening. They really need to mend that.

For lack of any better ideas, and hoping for at least a distraction, he bounds downstairs to see who it is that has returned, only to find Lip standing in the hall with an air of fatigue that seems premature only a few weeks into the semester. “Lip?” he says uncertainly. Something is clearly wrong, but Lipton is the guy that solves other people’s problems, and David isn’t quite sure how to respond now that it’s Lip who clearly has something wrong. Still, “Is everything alright?”

“Of course,” Lipton says, then he pauses. "Do you remember Ron Speirs?"

"A little," David says. He knows who the man is, but he's never had any real personal encounters with him, a fact that he's grateful for since the history TA has a fearsome reputation around campus – his classes firmly decaled best to avoid by the whole student body.

“Right, well he… I…” Lipton frowns and shakes his head, and the butterflies in his stomach give way to a knot of unease. Lip is one of the calmest and most assured people David knows, and anything that puts him so off balance must be truly terrible. “We were seeing each other,” Lip says, in such a rush that for moment David isn’t quite sure of what he’s heard. “He broke it off.”

This, David knows, it a moment where he ought to say something supportive, and hopefully not trite, but he’s so thrown by the revelations that all he actually manages to spit out is, “What?”

“He didn’t say why. I ran into him in the library and he just… said we were done.” Lip looks confused, surprised, but he has none of the rage David would except from something recently and inexplicably ditched.

The thought of Lipton and Speirs is a strange one to wrap his head around, but for the sake of the situation he decides it’s best to just accept it as he’s heard it. “Well are you sure he meant… that he was talking about your relationship. Maybe he just meant you were done in the library?”

Lip levels David with a look that says he knows exactly how far David is reaching and isn’t impressed.  “He was pretty serious and very cle-” he’s cut off by a loud knock at the door. David glances at the hall clock. 19:52. Oh shit.

It can't be Lieb, not yet. But it's a sharp reminder of how far he is from ready, even if Lieb is a full fifteen minutes late, David isn't sure he's got time left to get as ready as he wants to be.  His hair is a state, curls going every which way like they've never seen a comb before; he’s still in the inappropriate jeans; and not only does he not have a shirt on, he doesn’t even have one picked out. It’s decidedly rude to just ignore the knock, and there’s no way he can pretend he hasn’t heard it, but he’s in no state to answer the door, let alone go out on a date.

His decision is stolen from him by the sudden click of a key turning in the lock, and instead of fleeing in one direction or another, he just freezes right there in the hallway, as the door swings open to reveal Roe letting himself in, Lieb standing just off to one side.

Lieb looks unfairly good with his hair loosely slicked back, and wearing tight shirt in a gorgeous shade of dark blue and dark jeans that hug his legs so well that David can feel his pulse pick up. He looks David up and down, red lips curving into a wicked smirk as his eyes linger on David's bare chest and David can feel himself flush darkly as he turns rapidly away. “Gene, you should probably talk to Lip,” he blurts out, in the faint hope that Gene, who keeps to himself but was at least around for last year’s gossip, will be better equipped to help. Then he ignores Joe entirely and makes a hasty strategic retreat up the stairs.

_Fuck._

Early! Why on earth would Lieb be early? Has he slipped into some strange parallel universe where their personalities are reversed, that Lieb is the one who is punctual while David is left mortifying unprepared. God, there are clothes all over the floor, and he can't change his jeans now; it would look too obvious. He moves on to the shirts, resisting the temptation to turn to his closest and instead examining the two he’d been dithering over earlier - if Lieb is wearing blue it's better not to match, so he pulls the black one on instead.

Eyeing himself critically in the mirror, he runs his fingers through his hair, trying to smooth it down. He's red faced and a little frantic about the eyes - he hadn't meant to get so side-tracked talking to Lip and now he's been caught off guard, which isn't a state he wants to be around Joe in even if Joe isn't on the attack. There's not much he can do now but take a deep breath and will the flush from his face as he goes downstairs. It's just Liebgott, there shouldn't be butterflies in his stomach.

As he descends he can hear that they’ve moved through to the sitting room, so he steels himself with another deep breath before entering. If he just pretends he wasn’t caught half-dressed and disorganised, perhaps they can all just forget it ever happened.

From the look on Lieb’s and Roe’s faces when David he enters, Lipton has explained everything that’s happened and neither of them understand these new developments any more than David does.

"And he was fine before now?" Gene asks as David slips into the seat beside Joe.

"Yes," Lip says with a frown, "Or, well he'd been quiet. And I think... He'd complained about Luz being a nuisance, and I thought it was odd that he'd even paid Luz any notice. But nothing notable has happened."

Joe frowns and pulls his phone out of his pocket. “Yeah, actually, maybe something has,” he says, “You know that you and Luz are in a relationship on facebook, right? I did think it seemed like a dumb sort of high school-ish joke, but…” Webster leans over his shoulder, watching as Joe pulls up the relevant page and shows the screen to Lip. “You must have known. You would have had to confirm it.”

Lip shakes his head. “I haven’t been on Facebook in… weeks, months even. I used it to keep in contact over the break, but since we’ve been back I haven’t needed it.”

“Well somebody had access to your account to confirm that and put it up.”

Lip frowns. “Luz would be able to get to my laptop, and he’s good with technology, but why….?”

Joe slides hid phone back into his pocket and shrugs. “I’ve seen people do fake relationship statuses as a joke, but only when both parties have agreed. If he’s broke into your stuff to do it, then that’s just weird.”

“Why don’t we ask him?” Doc flips out his own phone, and for a moment they wait, but then the faint, tinny sound of the Proclaimers can be heard through the ceiling. Luz has left his phone in his room, of course.

“He and Toye had plans to try and get pizza delivered to the lawn,” Webster says, remembering the conversation they’d had that morning, Luz explaining that he’d been confused as to why Toye would feel the need to organise seeing him, like they weren’t in and out of each other’s houses every few days, until he’d realised how interesting it would be to see which pizza places would deliver to the lawn instead of a house. Webster suspected most would, as long as they were getting paid, but he hadn’t cared to ruin Luz’s fun. “I can go and ask him in person. Clear this up once and for all.”

Lip looks relieved and Doc nods. Joe looks less certain, glancing between Webster, Lip, and Doc before sighing. “Is this a good idea? I mean, no offense, but this is between Lip and Speirs and Luz, not you, right?”

Lip shrugs, looking too tired to fight. It’s disconcerting. “I just want to get an idea of what’s going on,” David says, "and I'll take my car, it'll be faster. Ten minutes, tops." He's honestly regretful about bailing on his plans with Lieb, but Lip is his friend, and he has to live with both Lip and Luz, so if there is trouble brewing it needs fixing before things can turn truly sour. He's banking on the fact that even Lieb seems a little perturbed by the knowledge that the brewing conflict involves Ron Speirs, who has a reputation on campus so formidable that incoming freshmen know to be nervous of him before even meeting him, and so he surely understands.

 

*****

 

George knows that something is up as soon as he sees Webster storming across the lawn towards them, wearing a look of intense fury that he normally reserves for Liebgott.

He exchanges a quick glance with Joe over their stack of pizzas, and Joe raises his open palms as if mystified, or perhaps just washing his hands of George. With a sinking feeling George realises that Webster must have figured out that what he'd heard about Liebgott's liking to him was, if not entirely a lie, certainly presented misleadingly. George braces for yelling, wonders if he can talk his way into crashing at Messina for at least a couple of days until Webster's ire cools down - sure they'd turned down his application for one of the free rooms on the grounds that Harry had no other potential roommates and couldn't officially move in with his girlfriend yet and Bill had promised the collective moms of Philadelphia that he would keep an eye on Heffron, but George was a pretty small guy, he could fit on the couch pretty easy.

The shouting doesn't come. Webster smiles as them, and it looks sincere but George is pretty sure that Webster had once mentioned his parents being in politics, so as transparent as George is used to Webster being, he doesn't quite trust the look.

"Congratulations," Webster says, far too cheerily for someone who had murder in his eyes just moments before. George's stomach twists - yeah, something is definitely up.

"On what?" Joe asks. Webster smirks, it's an unexpectedly mean look that makes George start to regret encouraging Webster to spend time with Liebgott if it results in him turning from wishy-washy to vicious.

"Haven't you heard?" Webster says, in a light casual tone that doesn't match the rest of his demeanour. "Luz and Lip are dating now."

Joe's head whips around to stare at George, looking shocked and angry despite the fact that he'd been there when George had come up with plan.

"Oh yes. It's very impressive how you've been managing to sneak around so well that nobody in the house knew about your new relationship until today," Webster says sweetly. "Though I'm not quite sure what to make of the fact that Lip hadn't heard anything about it until the guy he's been seeing for the last year ditched him for cheating, and he didn't even know who this new relationship was with until Lieb told us to check out facebook."

George's stomach drops. Lip had been seeing someone? “C’mon Web, it was just a joke,” he protests.

“Really? Did you think it was funny?” Webster accuses, smile vanishing in an instant.

"I didn't know Lip was seeing anyone," George says, because that point is vital, he wouldn't have tried anything if he'd known that, nor would he have needed to.

“Oh, so it would be fine to screw with him like that if he were single?”.

“Look it was just messing around,” George points out. Surely nothing he’d done was so blatant that as to be a real basis for accusations of cheating? “Who freaks out over a joke facebook status?”

Webster takes another step closer, and it's clear he is livid, more than a slighted friend justifies. Hell, George is closer friends with Lip that Webster is. Once again George wonders if Webster doesn't suspect that Lip's personal life isn't the only one that's been meddled in.

“You think it’s funny to invade your friend’s privacy and use it to spread lies about them?" Webster shoves him and George stumbles backwards, startled. Webster might yell and bitch, but he's not the sort of guy to get physical and George only just manages to get his arms up in time to stop Webster shoving him again.

"Woah, woah, Webster..." he says. He's not scared really, he's not much of a fighter but he's pretty sure he's more of one than Webster is. Webster grabs George by the collar, and George is pretty sure all that's coming next is harsh words, but maybe Joe sees something George doesn't because he moves in, knocking Webster aside. George has seen Joe fight enough to see in the curl of his harms that he's holding back, but Webster clearly wasn't expecting the push. He topples, sprawling to the dirt, wide-eyed and winded.

“For fucks sake, so there was some flirting and a dumb facebook status,” Joe says, “If Lip’s guy is jealous then he needs to get a grip.”

Webster straightens up, brushing his palms against his jeans and plucking at his now dusty shirt, and eyes Joe warily as he backs off. George doesn’t blame him. There is no world in which fighting Joe would end well for Webster. Shit, Luz could probably take Webster on himself if it came to it, although he hopes they could have found a peaceful resolution. Still, he’s grateful for Joe’s intervention.

“By the way,” Webster calls over his shoulder when he’s put a few yards between him and Joe. “The guy Lip was seeing? Ron Speirs.”

Oh _shit._

 

*****

 

Babe is eating cereal on the floor when the front door slams open. He’s got his first assignment and he’s been having a minor breakdown because holy shit this is so much more serious business than high school homework. He’s eating his cereal dry because they’re out of milk, and Bill has gone to find a pen so he can add it to the list. When Luz and Toye enter, Toye looks even more pissed than his default expression, and Luz’s hair is standing on end as he repeatedly runs his hands through it.

“What happened?” Babe asks.

“Joe! Buddy! I saw a post on yik yak saying that you punched Webster,” Bill says, running into the room sounding confused but not as perturbed as Babe feels a statement like that ought to measure.

“He just fell over,” Joe snaps, and then he sighs.

Luz pulls a face. “You did push him a little.”

Joe scowls. “He was going to hit you.”

Bill’s eyes go wide, “What?”

“Web’s never thrown a punch in his life,” Luz says glibly. “He was just getting in my face a bit, because… that whole thing we were doing with Lip for Babe has kind of got a bit fucked up. Turns out Lip was seeing Speirs-,”

There’s a choking noise that must be Bill, but Babe is more concerned by the inclusion of his own name in that statement, especially if whatever this situation is could lead to more physical fighting. “What was that about me?” he says as he rises from the floor, and he channels everything he's learned from eighteen years of growing up around tough guys into those words, making it firm enough that even Toye goes a little wide eyed.

“You said Doc wasn’t interested in dating unless Lip was, and we figured since you were so into Doc, it wouldn’t hurt to get you a chance,” Luz says in a sheepish rush.

“Get me a chance?” Babe echoes.

“Yeah, y’know, get Lip set up with somebody,” Luz explains, “Or looking set up, anyway, so that Doc would copy that and give you a shot.”

“We never really lied,” Bill says faux-innocent, “Facebook doesn’t count. Nothing is true on the internet.”

“I didn’t think Lip even used his facebook,” Luz adds.

Babe stares. He can’t believe they’re all three years older than him. “That’s the stupidest thing I ever heard.”

“We were just having fun,” Luz says. “It wasn’t like we were trying to be masterminds; we just came up with it after the party. I mean, mostly me, these guys just supported me.”

Babe focuses his glare on Joe Toye. “You were involved with this?” he accuses.

Toye shrugs. “I knew about it,” he concedes.

“You knew,” Babe says, betrayed, “And yet when I talked to you about how I was trying to get over Gene because I wanted to be able to be his friend without it being weird it didn’t occur to you to warn me that there was a plot to try and manipulate him into changing his mind.”

Bill scoffs. “Don’t be melodramatic. We were doing you a favour.”

Babe whirls on him. “Why were you doing anything? I didn’t ask you to, my life was going just fine without your meddling.”

Bill rolls his eyes. “If by fine you mean you were getting friendzoned.”

“Friendzoned, seriously?" Babe snaps, Bill knows better that to throw terms like that around even when he’s feeling like being difficult. He’s a little startled though, by the ferocity of the glare that Joe levels in Bill’s direction at the word – it goes way beyond shock at Bill using such a stupid term, and though Babe can’t make sense of why, is too furious to try, Joe’s annoyance looks an awful lot like it’s personal.

Bill is too far gone to notice though, just steps forward and says, “Yeah, _friendzoned_.”

Babe throws his hands in the air, "Well good. I could use some friends who aren’t manipulative douchebags like you!”

Luz steps forward. “Look, look – woah. It’s not like we forced anybody to do anything. I didn’t do anything with Lip that I haven’t done with other friends,” he defends. “We basically just hung out a few times, which I’d have done anyway, and I made a dumb facebook post. Christ, Web has already yelled at me right in the middle of the goddamn lawn. We weren’t seriously manipulating anybody and you know I’d never make trouble for Lip on purpose, I swear didn’t know he had someone, and…” Luz grimaces. “Look, do you have your phone?”

Thrown, Babe nods.

“Okay,” Luz says, more serious than Babe has ever seen him. “Find out where Lip is. I clearly fucked up, so I owe him an apology. And… I dunno, I’ll help him find Speirs and clear this up before it gets blown any further out of proportion.”

“What?” Bill says, incredulously.

Babe glares at him, before turning back to Luz. “Okay. Good. At least _you’re_ willing to do the decent thing. He’s back at your house.”

Luz nods and started walking towards the door. “Okay. We’re gonna fix this – no harm done.”

Bill folds his arms and leans back against the counter. “Nothing needs fixing, we didn’t do anything wrong.”

Joe Toye stands between them, and as pissed as he is, Babe still feels a little bad about how torn he looks. Having to choose between fighting friends is always rough, even though right now the decision should be obvious – fixing the mess is the _right_ choice, no matter how huffy Bill is.

Luz apparently disagrees through, waving Joe in Bill’s direction. “It’s cool. I was the one actually meddling in shit, you even told me you thought it was dumb, so fixing it isn’t on you.”

Joe looks relieved to have been freed from the burden of picking between his friends. Babe is kind of tempted to point out that not being responsible for a problem doesn’t have to mean not helping to fix it, but he’s getting the impression that he’s still missing the details of a lot of what has gone on, so he just sighs and grabs his coat, following Luz out.

 

*****

 

This isn't how Joe had expected the evening to go at all. Arriving to find steady, reliable Lipton all caught up in a messy breakup and him to be the one left to offer shaky emotional support to Lipton while Webster abandoned them to track people down and yell at them isn't something he thinks he’d have ever foreseen, and he's feeling at a bit of a disadvantage. Not that the day has been a total wash; the sight of Webster standing shirtless in the hallway, uncharacteristically tight jeans riding low on his hips and blushing from the tips of his ears right down to his belly, is a memory that Joe is going to savour later. He just hopes that the evening might yet be salvaged enough that it can be accompanied by memories of touch.

He’s damn sure that Lip doesn’t need Webster of all people attempting to fight his battles for him, and he’s got no idea what Webster thought he was going to accomplish.

As if summoned by Joe thinking of him, a gift Joe has long suspected Webster of having, the door swings open to reveal Webster, who looks rumpled and not in a fun way.

His palms are scraped and bloody, and when he turns to shut the behind him Joe sees that he's covered in streaks of dirt.

"Shit," he mutters.

"Yeah," Webster says sheepishly. "I found Luz, but..." he shrugs.

"George did that to you?" Lipton blurts out, voicing Joe's incredulity.

Webster shakes his head. "No, but Toye was with him."

Ah, yes. That would explain it.

There’s a part of Joe that’s tempted to go find Toye and even things out a little, but given that Webster’s worst injury is scraped palms… well if Toye had been serious about fighting him Webster would have got his ass kicked, so Joe is willing to give a little benefit of the doubt here, especially since he still hasn’t quite got his head around how all the different ways that people are pissed off tonight link together. This is quickly sliding towards the levels of unnecessary drama that Dick and Nix had attained last year, but he does doesn’t think attempting to extricate himself from the situation will go down well with the others. “Right, Web, next time you wanna do something stupid I’m coming along so you don’t get your dumb ass kicked.” He doesn’t have any tissues, but there are some coffee shop napkins lurking in the depths of his pockets and pulls one out, grabbing Webster’s hand and starting to dab the blood from his palm.

Web laughs. “Y’know that might just be the sweetest thing anybody has said to me on a date: isn’t that strange?”

It’s not really even a date yet, not by any definition Joe’s ever used, and he sure as shit isn’t sweet, so he’s contrary on purpose, “Because I called you a dumbass?”

Webster is smiling though, like Joe has said something special and not just that he’s willing to protect Webster from his own idiocy and he finds himself suddenly aware of how close their faces are, how Webster seems to be leaning closer when -

“Heffron just texted me,” Doc says suddenly. “He wants to meet, he says Luz is with him and has the full story,” Roe says.

Lipton stands. “Where are they?”

 

*****

 

By the time Babe and Luz make it back to the lawn, Lipton and Gene are already waiting there and to Babe’s surprise they’re accompanied by both Liebgott and Webster, who are for once not acting like bickering children.

They gather in a circle, and Babe looks at them all. Lip and Gene both look concerned, while Luz looks guilty. Webster is glaring at Luz and Liebgott just looks bored, leaving Babe wondering why he’s here at all.

Luz explanation of his attempt to create the illusion that Lipton was in a relationship is the swift and honest confession of someone truly contrite, but when Gene asks the obvious follow up question of ‘Why?’ Luz turns in Babe’s direction with a grimace.

Babe is pretty sure he’s already turning tomato red just thinking about the admission he now has to make, but they can hardly leave out his own part in this or none of it will make sense. He knows his crush has been so obvious that it can probably be seen from space, but giving up any last shreds of plausible deniability and actually laying it out in words – well, after all this trouble a little shame for him is the least of anyone’s concerns. “I guess, no, I’m pretty sure, that Bill had spotted my crush on you in about five seconds flat,” he keeps his eyes fixed firmly on a lamppost a few yards to Gene’s left and pushes on despite the rising nausea, “And I musta mentioned what you said about Lip not dating and you thinking it was smart, and they figured that if you saw Lip dating somebody you would… I dunno, be immediately inspired to jump on the bandwagon or something.” And then he pulls his eyes away from the post long enough to shoot a glare in Luz’s direction.

Luz shrugs, but his expression is apologetic. “Yeah, we were drunk when we came up with the ideas. In hindsight, I can see it had flaws, both of the ‘it’s ineffective’ and of the ‘it’s kind of a shitty thing to do’ variety. And by we, I mean mostly me.”

“You ain’t been drunk all of these past few weeks,” Gene says to Luz, in the sharpest tone Babe’s ever heard from him. It sends a chill though Babe, and he isn’t even on the receiving end.

“I got carried away,” Luz says. “And I’m sorry.”

Lipton leans forward and grasps Luz’s arm, “It’s fine. It was a mistake, but… It’s fine.” He’s certainly more forgiving that Babe feels, despite the fact it’s he who Luz has most severely wronged. Out of the corner of his eye Babe can see that Gene still looks rightfully pissed off, and he guiltily turns away just in time to witness Luz’s eyes going wide.

Babe glances over his shoulder to see Joe Toye striding across the lawn to join them.

“You came.” Luz sounds pleased, but not nearly as surprised as Babe is by the turn of events.

“Bill was being an ass,” Toye says. “It doesn’t matter who started it, if Lip needs help he should get it.” Luz smiles, and Lip nods his acknowledgement of Toye’s support. Babe can’t believe that Bill is still holding out, even now he has no allies, and wonders if it would be overkill to call Bill’s mom to tell her that her son is being a dick.

“Glad to have you,” Lip says, with a tight smile. “I assume you already know what’s going on?”

“Speirs. Though he’s pretty quick to get pissed and assume you were cheating,” Toye says, sounding disapproving. “I mean, it’s _Luz._ ”

Luz nods. “I mean, from a certain point of view you could say I went too far, but I didn’t do anything _that_ out of the ordinary. If people broke up every time I got a bit cosy with people there’d only be like three couples on campus.”

 “No. I’m not sure that was it,” Lip says, and Babe sort of grimaces, because most people he knows have described Lipton as a paragon of reasonableness, but Babe isn’t sure how being so willing to give the guy who just dumped him the benefit of the doubt fits in with that. “He didn’t seem angry,” Lip finishes. “I just… I want to talk to him. For him to actually explain, because I think there’s something I’m missing.”

Luz and Toye exchange looks, but the Luz seems to shrug off the concern. “Well – search parties. Uh, Doc you can take Babe,” Luz says, and Babe winces because he’s pretty sure the last thing Eugene wants after the evenings revelations is to be sent off with the guy indirectly responsible for this mess in the first place, and maybe Babe should go back to thinking of him as Roe now that things have undoubtedly soured between them.

He’s surprised then, when Eugene nods without protest, just adding “I’ve texted Renee and Spina, they’re volunteering at the clinic and they can’t leave but they’re both going to keep a lookout.”

Luz nods. “Okay good. Can you cover the north of campus, from the admin buildings to the library?”

“Sure thing, right Babe?”

Babe’s stomach flips, and he can feel the blood rushing to his face again even though it’s so not the time when they’ve got problems to solve and Babe’s crush is part of the reason they’re in this mess. Curse his mother for passing on her Irish complexion to him, and all the embarrassment that came with it. But if Gene is willing to call Babe by his nickname, then maybe there’s a friendship to be preserved here after all.

“Babe?”

Oh god. “Right, sure. Admin. The library. That’s great. I love the library.”

Luz stares at him. “Ohhh-kay.” He shakes his head dismissively. “Web, Lieb, you take the east side of campus – that’s mostly the woods and the greenhouses. It’s a long shot but if he wants to get away from anywhere people are then that’s the place to go.”

Webster nods and Liebgott, who’d been looking more annoyed than concerned by the whole thing, sighs but nods along as well.

“Okay, there’s not much south of here but the town, and we can’t search that,” Luz declares. “If he were going home we wouldn’t have to look for him, so you and I can take west campus,” he turns to Toye a little as he says it, and Toye tilts his head in a gesture that Luz must interpret as agreement. “And Lip,” Luz eyes the subject of his attention with concern, “I think you should stay here, that way you’ll be central and locatable if we find him.”

Lipton looks doubtful, but Babe agrees. They guy looks in no state to be running around campus as part of a search party. Anyway, it seems like Luz is organising on the buddy system and Lipton is the odd man out.

 

*****

 

David has cut through the woods dozens of times in the daylight without a second thought, but there’s something eerie about them in the darkness, and this early in fall the leaves still thick enough on the trees that there are only a few narrow beams of moonlight breaking erratically through the canopy. It’s ridiculous but he finds himself edging closer to Lieb than the wide path demands. Joe has his phone out and is using it as a flashlight, shining the beam in a wide arc as if Speirs might be lurking in the shrubbery, and seeming utterly unfazed by the rustling noises from just out of sight.

"Do you really think Speirs is likely to be hanging out in the woods after dark?" he asks, hoping to keep the apprehension out of his voice.

He clearly doesn't do a good job, because Joe turns to him and smirks, "Scared, Web?"

"No," David snaps, shoving his hands into his pockets. He's not. It's just that the noises keep startling him even though he knows it's probably just the wind.

"Awww..." Joe says, blatant in his amusement. He reaches up and slings an arm over David's shoulders, "Don't worry. I won't let the big scary squirrels get you," he teases and David rolls his eyes, because he knows that there's nothing in these woods that could hurt him, at least not unless they find Speirs, but he slouches a little so that Lieb's arm can rest easier around him.

“Seriously though,” David adds. “This just seems like an incredibly strange place to look.”     

“It’s Speirs,” Joe says dismissively, “If you’d seen him around as much as everyone else you’d know that he is incredibly strange.”

Well, Joe would know better than him, if he’s been around of a year of Lipton and Speirs as a couple David supposes. Even if nobody was aware of the crucial detail.

They keep walking and David wonders at how deep the woods are – he’d never had any need to go all the way through them to the greenhouses and had always assumed that the ‘woods’ were just a small clump of trees separating them from campus, but it turns out there’s been an actual forest here this whole time.  It's not exactly dinner at The Blue Room, but Lieb's arm around his shoulders keeps him close and it's warm where they're pressed together, a closeness that would have made David self-conscious in the restaurant but feels natural here.

“Why would Luz do what he did?” David wonders.

"Urgh." Joe groans theatrically. "I don’t know. I mean you'd think he'd sort out his own romantic drama fest before starting in on other peoples."

David isn't sure what he means about that. Luz has been pretty much single as long as Webster's known him, bar a few one-off dates, but maybe Joe just means that Luz should stay away from something that he has no experience in. "I just can't believe that Luz thought messing about with Lipton of all people was a good idea," he says instead.

"Well I doubt he would have it he'd realised he was messing with Speirs too," Joe observes.

“Yeah,” David says, biting his lip as he contemplates the thought that’s been nagging at him since he heard the news. “But if he'd do that to Lip, who I always thought he was pretty good friends with, then who else might he have been playing tricks on.”

“What, like there’s some huge conspiracy?” Joe shakes his head dismissively. “Nah. What else could he do?”

David hesitates, but he knows that if he says nothing he’ll just be left wondering and worrying. “I don’t know. It’s just weird, because it was from him that I found out about you liking me, and it never occurred to me that he would be such an unreliable sort of person.”

"He told you like I liked _you_?" Joe says, sounding so surprised that that it makes Webster uneasy. He shrugs Joe's arm from his shoulders, sidestepping away.

"Yeah. Well, not told me," Webster corrects, and he finds himself hoping beyond all reason that Joe is just annoyed about Luz sharing a secret that he shouldn't have. "I, uh, I overheard Muck, Malarkey, and Penkala all gossiping when I came by Messina to pick up my car after the party, and then Luz turned up and joined in with them about the time I realised who they were all talking about.”

“Just after the party? I didn’t like you then.”

“What?” Webster says, around the lump forming in his throat.

"It's pretty damn obvious that Luz doesn't have the first fucking clue what he's playing at, or we wouldn't be here trying to clean up his mess," Joe says tersely. "Maybe he was just confused because of your massive crush on me."

Webster can feel his face heating. It's true that ever since overhearing those words he's been looking at Joe in a new light, and spending time with him had revealed just how interesting Joe could be when he wasn't being an asshole, but a massive crush is definitely overstating it. "I never a massive crush on you," he defends, "Just because you've been making a better impression than usual since I heard that you were being a dick to cover up your own crush."

"My crush?" Joe says incredulously. "I was just being nice to you because according to Nix you've been pining all over Europe for me, and it seemed like a public service to stop you being so pathetic."

The words are like a slap.

For a moment all he can do is gape at Lieb, but then anger surges within him. "You think I was pining for you?" David says, channelling years of watching his parents sneer at the many people who they considered beneath them into making the words sound as scornful as possible. “You? How ridiculous.”

"Oh fuck you. And fuck this shit," Joe snarls, so it looks like there's still one thing left that they can agree on. “Speirs isn’t going to be just wandering about in the fucking woods. Luz must’ve been fucking with us some more by sending us out here. Anyway, Speirs and Lip can figure their shit out on their own, what sort of stupid would they have to be to break up over one little misunderstanding? I’m out.” He turns on his heel, and storming away down that path, and leaving Webster reeling.

He takes a deep breath, squinting through the tress as he tries to find something to hold onto. He settles on rage. Fuck Joseph Liebgott as he walks away from Web, and leaves him fumbling to pull his phone out so he’s not left in the darkness as Lieb takes the light with him. Fuck his immature smirk and his cocky insincere fake flirting, like putting an arm around Webster's shoulders in the dark wasn't a trite move right out of middle school. He doesn't need Lieb to take pity on him. He not nervous anymore, he's seething. He's the loudest thing in the woods now, snapping fallen branches beneath his feet as he walks for the satisfaction of hearing them crack. He’s walking the wrong way, deeper into the woods and he's going to have to come back out the other side and loop all the way around if he wants to get back home, but that's better than looking like he might be chasing after Lieb.

 

*****

 

Luz isn’t really expecting the search party strategy to be very effective, it was just something to keep everybody busy until Speirs turned up on his own, so he trips over his own feet when barely ten minutes into looking, he spots Speirs just sat on a bench outside the chemistry building. The only thing that keeps his face from meeting concrete is Joe’s hand, lighting fast, catching the back of his jacket and steadying him.

 “I’m not actually trying to steal your boyfriend!” he blurts out. It’s maybe not the best opening, but it certain gets Speirs’ attention, as his heard jerks up and he stares slightly slack-jawed at Luz for a moment before his face snaps back into its customary scowl.

“I didn’t think you were,” he says quietly, turning to look right past Luz.

“All that shit, and the facebook thing, he didn’t even know anything about it, just got caught up in the scheming. If I’d known Lip was taken I wouldn’t have tried anything.” He might not even have had the idea. Speirs might not be the best pick to suit his plans to demonstrate the joys of dating, but he still contradicts Doc’s ‘Lip doesn’t date’ argument.

Speirs doesn’t seem interested in Luz pointing out the facts. “That’s not important,” he mutters, even though it can’t be true.

Joe doesn’t seem to care, because he sits himself down on the bench beside Speirs and says, “No, it’s not really about that, is it?” Speirs ignores him but Joe presses on. “I know about liking somebody but feeling like you can’t do anything about it.” George blinks. That’s the first he’s heard of that. It seems unlikely that Joe would lie to Speirs, but at the same time George can’t quite believe that what Joe is saying is true. Joe likes a person and didn’t share this info with him when he could have been an awesome wingman? Okay, maybe not a wingman given how he’s spent the last few weeks accidentally fucking up people’s relationships by trying to do that, but he could have offered emotional support or something – brought him beer and listened to him vent.

But Speirs is listening to Joe now, as Joe quietly suggests that the real reason things went badly isn’t so much the meddling as it is that Lip and Speirs were hiding their relationship and finally Speirs tips his head back and sighs.

"My preference for discretion shouldn't mean that he has to tolerate this sort of harassment." He sounds terse and glares at George like Speirs is expecting him to protest the descriptor.

"Okay, but um... look it's been made clear to me that this whole plot was kind of a shitty thing to do, regardless of whether Lip was actually single or not," George confesses. "That wasn't on you. But that doesn’t explain why you just bailed on him."

Speirs sighs. “Lip isn’t the type to keep secrets. But I was T.A for a class he was in when we met. There was no impropriety, but I still didn’t want to risk the suggestion of any and so I insisted upon discretion.”

George nods. “That makes sense. I’m not seeing the problem.”

“It’s wrong that he has to hide because of me,” Speirs says. “Breaking off a relationship that was dragging him down is the best thing I can do for him.”

George stares. None of the rumours he’d heard about Speirs had mentioned a penchant for dramatics but it seems he’s getting an education tonight. “One little misunderstanding and you decide the whole relationship is dragging him down. Do you really think that he would have half a dozen people out looking for you if he felt that way?” George points out, and he isn’t even going to try to pretend to be able to interpret Speirs’ expressions, but there’s a flicker of _something_ in his gaze.

“What is he looking for?” Speirs says. “I made myself clear.”

“Yeah. Well, Lip wouldn’t be with you if he didn’t want to, and he was really worried when you just disappeared and he couldn’t contact you. He just wants to know you’re okay, and what went wrong, but mostly that first thing.”

“He’s worried?” Speirs asks, brow furrowed.

“Yes!” George and Joe say it at the same time.

Speirs stands. “He shouldn’t be,” he says, and it seems that’s that because Speirs sets off a brisk walk in the direction of Padua, barely short of breaking into a run, and George doesn’t bother to try to keep up with him. They’ve done their part, and with the night’s big problem dealt with George feels pretty good about turning to Joe and saying, “Okay, so what’s this about you liking somebody and how come I didn’t know about it? Tell me everything!”

“It’s nothing,” Joe says, tersely.

“C’mon, it’s clearly not nothing if you’re bonding with Speirs over it,” Luz teases. “Who is the lucky person? When are you going to ask them out?”

“I’m not,” Joe says. “They aren’t interested.”

George stumbles, looking over at Joe in surprise.  “Maybe they would be interested if you asked,” George says. It’s hard to imagine anybody flat out turning Joe down. Joe doesn’t date much but it has always seemed obvious to George that it must be a by-product of Joe’s selective tastes since George could never believe he was lacking for options. “Make sure they know you’re an option and all that. Is it somebody in one of your classes? Or maybe they’re just too intimidated to think about you that way without being invited too, or something. Honestly, I’m still stuck on how you’ve been liking somebody without me noticing.”

“You haven’t noticed who I like because you’re an idiot,” Joe says, unexpectedly harsh as he turns away from George. “Go check on the others or something.”

 

*****

 

Babe and Roe have been walking in torturous near silence, so Babe hears the ping of Eugene’s phone at the same time as he feels his own vibrating in his pocket, and they pull them out in unison.

The message is from Luz - quick, to the point, and uncharacteristically free of emoji. He’s found Speirs and Speirs has agreed to talk to Lip. It’s out of their hands now, a quicker and easier resolution to this whole mess than Babe was expecting, but he’s glad of it. And not just because he’s never actually met the infamous Ron Speirs and wouldn’t have had the first clue what to say to him anyway.

“I guess that’s that,” Eugene says, but Babe can’t let him leave like this.

“I really am sorry,” he says, he’s apologised already when they first set out but it doesn’t feel like enough, not when it was his stupid complaining that started off this whole mess, even if he would’ve stopped it had he known what was being done on his behalf.

“Heffron, it’s fine,” Eugene says, and Babe winces because he thought he’d finally got Gene calling him by his name, but apparently not. He’s supposes that’s fair though.

“It’s not right that they’d try to use Lip, or manipulate you like that,” Babe says, in fact, it’s almost sleazy. “I swear I would’ve told Bill and Luz to knock it off if I’d known.”

“No it ain’t right,” Gene agrees. “And stupid to boot. Even if I admire Lip, I ain’t just gonna copy all his choices."

"Of course not," Babe agrees. After all, if somebody had asked him to name a role-model, he would have said Bill (provided he could be certain it wouldn't get back to Bill and inflate his head further), but that didn't mean he supported every dumbass choice Bill made -see: their present situation-, and it certainly didn't mean he would go out and get a girlfriend just ‘cause Bill had one. "And even if you wanted to, y’know, date, you'd have plenty of other people to pick from,” he adds. “I’d say I don’t know what they were thinking, except I’m pretty sure they just _weren’t_.”

“Plenty of…?” Gene shakes his head and grimaces. “Not really. I ain't... well I'm not one to get interested in people like that.”

“Oh," Babe says, a sudden alternate theory as to why Gene might be so uninterested in dating dawning on him. "Like asexuality?” he blurts out and Gene blinks owlishly at him. “Or- Or not?”

Gene blinked again. “Sorta… it’s um, it’s more, well there's a grey area. Demisexuality, some people call it. I, uh,” he pauses and shakes his head. “Damn… I never had this conversation before without having to start out by explaining asexuality exists.”

“Oh sorry,” Babe says, “Did I ruin your script?” That was probably inconsiderate of him, and he knows better. He doubted he’d ever forget what a nightmare coming out to Bill had been, not because he’d ever doubted Bill’s support, but because it had been impossible for Babe to string more than a few words together without Bill interrupting.

Gene laughs. It’s soft and quiet, but it’s like he lights up from the inside out, and Babe can barely fight the urge to lean towards him like a flower to the sun. Instead he mentally kicks himself, because those are not the thoughts of a guy who is over it, and right now Babe is relying upon the fake it till you make it approach of shaking off this crush.

“Yes. But not in a bad way,” Gene says, “It’s nice to be understood. I just tend to keep it among my friends to save on explaining.”

“Oh… well,” Babe isn’t sure that Gene is calling _him_ a friend, that seems like too much when Babe keeps making a mess of things, but the fact he’s sharing that information at all must be a sign of some trust, and Babe smiles at him. “I… Thanks, I mean I’m glad you… uh… y’…”

“I get it, it’s okay,” Gene says, as they reach the junction for their separate houses, with a soft smile that makes Babe believe that it might be. “Night.”

 

*****

 

The walk back to Messina house does nothing to cool Joe’s head, and the front door rattles as he slams it shut behind him.

He can hear the voices of Muck and Malarkey echoing through from the kitchen, sounding like they're playing cards, and recalls Webster's words about who exactly had given him the idea that Joe needed his pity, and for a moment he's tempted to storm in there, make a mess of their goddamn game and see what their excuse is for messing in his life, but he doesn't. It's Webster that's the goddamn problem. He’d been beginning to think that Webster wasn’t quite as full of himself that Joe had once assumed, but that had obviously been a stupid mistake. Webster had thought he was such hot shit that he'd be doing Joe a favour by spending some time with him. Hell, it had been fucking arrogant of him to actually believe it when he’d heard that Joe was interested in him. And Joe had been stupid to believe that Webster, who had thought himself too good for Joe from the start, would ever honestly respect him.

He stalks up the stairs instead, and he slams the door as he walks into his room, making sure to bolt it behind him. He's pretty sure he'd take a swing at anybody who got near him right then, and the last thing he needs is bruised knuckles to match his ego.

He wants to flop down on his bed but it's covered in clothes. Jesus but he'd been an idiot. He'd let himself get excited over his plans for the evening, had ransacked his wardrobe looking for something that would make him look good but not like he was trying too hard, when Webster had deserved none of the effort. He shoves the clothes onto the floor, uncaring that they mix in with his dirty laundry, then wraps the blankets around himself, presses his face into the pillow and screams.

David Webster had batted his pretty blue eyes and Joe had come tripping over himself to get a little bit of that attention on him. Like he'd learned fucking nothing since freshman year.

Christ, he'd given up his evening plans and gone wandering into the woods on some hopeless search for Ron fucking Speirs, who likely wouldn't have listened to their input on his personal life even if they'd found him, all just because Webster has seemed so fucking down and worried about his friends.

But it was all a fucking ploy. Joe had been enjoying the sight of Webster unexpectedly cute and nervous under his arm, trying to decide if he could get away with stealing a kiss even before they'd managed dinner, and then Webster had gone and revealed that he'd only been interested in Joe because Luz had given him the impression that Joe would be an easy target. Web had been toying with him.

Sure, he'd only given Webster's sudden onslaught of charm a shot because of what he'd overheard from Nix and Luz, those words from Dick about Webster having feelings for Joe other than the stuck-up scorn he'd so freely displayed, but it had seemed to reasonable to believe their words when they'd come just days after Webster's sudden smiles and buying him coffee, and now Joe doesn't know what to think. It wouldn’t surprise him if they were all in on it together, enjoying their fucked up joke, laughing to themselves at how stupid Joe had been fall for their arrogant little games.

There's a part of him that contemplates revenge, but Dick isn't the scheming sort, if he had a part in Webster's mockery it was surely unwitting, and there's no appropriate revenge he could exact upon Nix that wouldn't have side effects for Dick. Luz, now Luz is more likely target for revenge, with these revelations about the games he's been playing with Lip and Babe and Roe it's unquestionable that he was a willing player in Webster's game, maybe even a co-instigator. They'd probably laughed together at how funny it would be. He's not sure what his revenge on Luz would be, but he doubts he's the only one plotting against Luz tonight, and he's sure somebody will have some ideas.


	5. Chapter 5

George knows he’s going to need to keep apologising to Lip for a while yet, although Lip insists that everything is fine since there was no lasting harm done. Things still aren’t right between Bill and Babe either but given that Babe has responded by spending most of his time hanging around Padua house - it does at least seem that Doc understands that Babe was an innocent party in whole stupid game.

It’s starting to get crowded around Padua though, especially when Muck and Malarkey drop by and the first thing Malarkey says is, "Can I crash here tonight? I don't feel safe in Messina anymore."

George raises his eyebrows. "Only if you want to deal with Webster's inexplicable sulk."

“Sulky is better than murderous,” Malarkey says, sounding genuinely worried. “I’m pretty sure Lieb knows we were meddling between him and Webster, and he’s pissed.”

"Yeah, and if he slams the doors any harder he's going to bring the whole building down around our ears just by accident," Muck adds.

A rock settles in George's stomach. The last time he'd seen Lieb and Web together they'd been happily headed off into the woods, under the guise of looking for Speirs in the most unlikely of places. Really George had sent them that way because it was clear Webster wanted to feel like he was helping but George was pretty sure Lieb was more pissed about the ruined date and the woods made for a romantic enough walk to serve as a middle ground. But Web had come back from their walk more tempestuous than ever, and if Lieb is in a fury as well… "You don't think they split up, do you?"

Muck grimaces and Malarkey goes so pale the only colour left in his face is his freckles.

"We're dealing with dumped Liebgott," Skip says with horror, "Jesus, no wonder he's turned into a nightmare."

Luz frowns. "If you think Lieb is the one who has been dumped you obviously haven't see Webster lately. He's acting like he's the turtleneck wearing protagonist of some arty black and white European movie."

"So like usual," Malarkey interjects.

George flicks his bottle cap at him. "Firstly, he usually acts like he's in one of those movies where nothing happens, and now it's become one of those movies that ends with everyone dying-"

Skip raises his eyebrows, "Watch a lot of those films, do you?"

"Shut up," George grumbles. "My point is, he'd been positively whimsical since hearing Lieb liked him, and now they're back on the outs he’s turned into a human raincloud, so I'm not so sure he was the one to chuck Lieb."

"Maybe it was some kind of mutual thing," Skip suggests.

"Or maybe whichever one of them did the ditching regrets it."

George suspects they've both guessed at least semi-accurately. "Those two _are_ basically the embodiment of cutting off your nose to spite your face," he concludes, frustrated. He'd been holding on to the consolation that for all the ways his meddling had gone wrong, he had managed to engineer peace between Web and Lieb, which should have been a blessing on both houses. They’d been so quick to set aside their arguments once an alternative was presented to them, and they’d both seemed happier flirting instead of fighting – even knowing the change had started as a prank, George had found himself wondering if there was real potential there. But apparently the spark had turned into wildfire in the worst way.

“I was wrong,” Malarkey says, “We somehow managed to make it even worse than before.”

"How is this our fault if they’re back to being dicks?" George snaps, he doesn’t mean to it to come out so irritable, Malarkey doesn’t deserve that but after the past few days, all the accusations that his well-meant meddling in the lives of his friends had been malice rather than matchmaking, he’s feeling defensive. He's even somehow managed to piss off Joe, who he'd always relied upon to stick by him even when Joe thought he was being a dumbass, but since that night and the conversation with Speirs his texts have gone unanswered and Joe has been conspicuously absent. George might have chalked that up to an unfortunate coincidence, had he not asked Bill about Joe's whereabouts and received a suspiciously tight lipped response. He can't pinpoint the basis for Joe's avoidance but it grates at him far deeper than Webster's sullenness or even Lipton and Roe's disappointed attitudes.

"I think… well could it be we weren't actually making it up when we said the dislike was covering for something else?” Skip says. “I don’t know about Web, but from the stuff Lieb's been muttering it seems he thinks it was Webster doing the lying about liking him, and it’s bothering him more than I’d have thought it would."

George contemplates this. It was true that despite seeming to know about George's hand in setting things up between them, and his willingness to confront George over what had happened with Lip, Webster hadn't shown any particular new annoyance towards him regarding the plan that he’d been the target off. Lieb had been the subject of his ire and his dark mutterings, and now George realises he isn't so sure that Webster is aware that Lieb got played just as much as he did.

All Luz had needed to do was point them in each other’s directions and suggest that things might go better if they stopped being dicks to each other, and they’d managed to get to a point of making each other happy. It would be such a damn waste for that to be thrown away just because they couldn’t see that they were both better off that way, and that however they might have felt before George had started meddling, they’d certainly liked each other at least for a moment before things had all gone wrong.

Maybe an apology party is in order.

 

*****

 

David can hear the sounds of George setting up for the party he'd planned echoing up through the floor. He claims it's a gesture of apology and an attempt to get both houses moving forward from the week's disastrous events, but David isn't sure why George thinks inviting the Messina guys around to make a mess is a good thing. He's found himself unexpectedly short of allies though. Lip is determined to treat the whole fiasco as an innocent misunderstanding and to keep Dick and Nix from being drawn into the mess; and Gene is inexplicably fond of Babe Heffron, dismissing his role in all of the bullshit as just keeping questionable company. Even Hoobler just shrugs and claims that since David didn't like Liebgott anyway what did it matter if David had made a fool of himself by reaching out only to have Lieb dismiss him so coldly.

He knew what they’re really thinking though. They all think he was stupid to have fallen for it, and if he's honest with himself, they're right. He grabs his most recent notebook from the nightstand, flipping through the pages with scorn. What had he been thinking? Page after page dedicated to Liebgott. Musing attempts to put the fluttering in his chest into words, verses trying to capture what it was about Liebgott that drew him in. The words themselves were shameful, childish rhymes and shoehorned meter. No matter how hard he willed it poetry had never come easily to him, though he sometimes couldn't help but try for it. It's not the words that wound though, it's the subject. The writing might be foolish and embarrassing, but in a way it suited, because it seemed the whole episode had been a feint to humiliate him. A public service, Lieb had called it, and David wonders at how many people must have been laughing behind their hands, grateful to Lieb for enduring the hardship of Webster's affections and so sparing them his idiocy.

It's like school all over again. His first girlfriend from middle school who'd held his hand at the movies and kissed him on the cheek, them dumped him a few weeks later because apparently dating her had been supposed to make him less of nerd, but that had never panned out. The way his parents would push him to try sports, constantly say that it was such a shame he wasn't more popular, surely with his looks he should have girls all over him, how much he could make of himself if he just put a little effort in. He should have seen it coming, hadn't he already pegged Lieb as just another of those guys who'd mock David's study habits and sneer at his interests - he ought to have trusted those early instincts. And though Liebgott was the lynchpin of the ploy, others must have been in on it.

So - the last thing he wants is to go to a party with them all.

He can't get out of it though. It's pretty clear that Lipton is only going to tolerate David walking out of every room Luz enters for so long and Dick keeps shooting David concerned looks. If he doesn't go to the party he knows that he'll be considered the one at fault, so he's going to have to pull himself together and make certain that Lieb doesn't get the satisfaction of seeing how far under David's skin he'd got before the lies were revealed.

And the first step towards that is getting rid of this goddamn notebook.

He wishes he had a lighter to hand, but the company he'd kept in Europe had preferred e-cigarettes and although they lacked the classic appeal of rolling by hand David had been gradually swayed by the health benefits and no longer habitually carried a lighter. Now he regrets it. He wants the satisfaction of a real cigarette not just a nicotine fix, and burning is what these pages need. All those silly thoughts and hours of contemplating how best to frame Lieb's features in words, picking out the words to depict an unfamiliar set of charms, it would be fitting to have it all go up in smoke. Instead he gives up and tosses the whole damn notebook into the wastepaper basket. It's a tragic waste of a hardback that’s only half used, and there are lines in it about more sensible topics, but they're tainted by proximity now, he knows that even if he rips out every page that so much as references Lieb, he'll still remember that the words were there every time he opens the book. Better to be rid of the whole damn thing, and a shame he can't free himself of his feelings with such ease.

 

*****

 

Babe’s still pissed at Bill so he makes his own way over to Luz’s party rather than sticking with the rest of the Messina guys. It’s a smaller gathering than the party at Messina, this is an event for friends, particularly those friends involved in last Friday nights mess, and he recognises most of the people milling about. It’s nice, to feel like he’s among people he knows already even though he’s still new to the college, but it also makes it hard for him to keep avoiding Bill. He’s been spending as little time as possible at Messina, and when he’s there he always makes sure he can get away by saying he’s busy studying or about to call his mom, or that he has to get to class or to meet a friend and it’s not subtle but it works. And it means he can slip away and avoid the guilt of Bill’s betrayed looks, remind himself that this fuckup wasn’t his.

It’s harder now. Babe had ducked him once, upon seeing him enter the kitchen, by suddenly declaring he needed to go to the bathroom, but now he’s in the hall with a full cup in his hand and no excuses coming to mind as Bill approaches.

He's not sure what the hell is about to happen, but he's certainly not expecting the first word out of Bill mouth to be, "Sorry."

"What?"

"I'm sorry," Bill says, a little sullenly but not insincerely. It's a tone that usually only comes out for his mother. "I acted like a dick."

Babe sips his beer. There's a part of him that's tempted to just let it go, he doesn't enjoy being mad at Bill, but this isn't just about Babe. “You did. And when I called you out on it, you defended that shit.”

“I just… everybody kept saying I ought to look out for you at college,” Bill explains. “And I figured I could have a little fun with it. It was only supposed to be joking around with Luz, I didn’t realise it would end up with people feeling seriously messed with.”

Babe pulls a face. “You don’t actually need to look out for me. You’re only two and a half years older than me. And I’m the more mature one.”

“Sure you are,” Bill laughs, “But well…” he slips back into a frown, “…You got so serious after what happened with… with…”

“Julian,” Babe finishes for him. Ever since last new year and the accident, everybody that knew him had been treating him differently, like they worried he was going to snap at any moment. For the first few weeks he could hardly blame them, god knows he was a mess when they’d picked him up from the hospital, but at some point in the nine months since the caution had become stifling, and less of a help and more of a constant reminder when he was doing his best to put what had happened that morning out of his head.

“When you got mad at me I was so pissed off you weren’t laughing along at the joke that I didn’t realise the joke was never that funny,” Bill says. “I… your mom calls me twice a week, y’know?”

Babe frowns. He didn’t know actually. He’d known she gossiped a lot with momma Guarnere and he’d known she had Bill’s number but he hadn’t realised she was taking it so far. That could push anyone into acting oddly. “I’ll tell her to stop.”

Bill shakes his head. “It’s fine. She’s just wants to make sure you’re doing okay. That’s why when I saw who’d caught your eye I figured, Doc’s a good guy, he’d be good you.”

“So your excuse for all this was you were trying to appease my mom?” Babe says, teasing a little now.

“Your mom is a scary lady,” Bill says. “But also, frankly, there was quite enough pining around here even before you showed up.”

Babe frowns, and then remembers. “Joe said something about being stuck on someone,” he says. “Your Joe I mean, not-”

“Yeah I want nothing to do with whatever Liebgott and Webster’s deal is,” Bill says with a grimace. “But trying to get Joe to man up and make a move is like getting blood from a stone. He’s convinced that the idiot not noticing his feelings is a sign he should keep quiet, rather than just the usual idiocy.”

“The idiot?” Babe says, because he’d never got any clear indication of who it was Joe was hung up on.

Bill just sighs and shakes his head. “Idiots the pair of them, and I need to go give Joe a shove about fixing it. We good?”

“We’re good,” Babe agrees. “Just… don’t shove him too hard.”

Bill laughs. “Don’t worry. I misjudged with you and Doc, but this shit-show I’ve been watching play out for years now. I know how to handle them.”

He wanders off, and Babe sends up a quick prayer for Joe’s sake, watching the room until he’s finished his beer and has to return to the lounge for a refill.

He’s just opening a fresh bottle when he’s surprised by the sight of David Webster walking into the room. He lives here, but his presence is still a shock since as Babe understands it the guy had spent the last few days seeming more inclined to sulk in his room than partake in any sort of fun. His surprise quickly turns to apprehension as Webster stalks across the room making straight for where Liebgott is talking to Harry Welsh. Liebgott sees Webster’s approach, expression immediately twisting into a glare, and Welsh takes one glance at the pair then promptly flees for cover behind the couch. Smart man.

Babe wonders if Webster had started drinking early, to instigate a confrontation like this. He seems worked up as he steps right into Lieb’s face and says bluntly, “So it’s true then, you never liked me?”

“No,” Liebgott scoffs with a dismissive shrug, “No more than you deserve.”

Webster glares over in the direction of where Muck and Malarkey are each scrambling to hide behind the other. “And here I’d heard that you were almost sick with affection me.”

“Sick of you perhaps, but never sick with liking,” Liebgott jibes, eyes darting towards where two of the older Padua guys Babe doesn’t really know are standing. “And everybody says that you were basically wasting away you wanted me so much. True?”

“I only ever liked you as much as you liked me,” Webster says derisively, “So I suppose that means not at all.”

"I guess it does," Liebgott huffs, but if he has anything else to say it’s lost as the door slams open.

"I got it!" Alex Penkala yells, brandishing several sheets of screwed up notebook paper as if they were excalibur.

A glance around the room makes it clear that Babe isn't the only one wondering ' _got what?_ '. Except for George Luz, who is pulling a fancy blue notebook from his pocket and crossing the room so that he and Penkala close in on the unhappy duo in the centre. Babe's gut tells him something meddlesome is going on, even though he'd have thought Luz had learned his lesson about sticking himself in other people’s business after the past week.

Babe is just wondering if he's gonna have to be the one to step up and ask for an explanation when Webster cries out, incredulously, “Have you been going through my trash?!" and lunges to grab the book from George's hands. That's enough to get Liebgott's attention, and he also reaches for the book though he looks surprised when Luz willingly thrusts it into his hands.

Penkala holds the messy sheaf of papers out to Webster. "Look at these," he insists, and Webster is clearly more interested in getting the notebook away from Liebgott but Penkala is equally determined and Liebgott has backed away several paces, book clutched firmly in his hands, so Webster seems to surrender, taking the papers and unfolding them.

Liebgott pages through the notebook, brow furrowing. “This is… this is probably… no it _is_ the worst poetry I’ve ever read,” he says, sounding mystified, “And this is your notebook. I thought you were supposed to be a writer, Web?”

“Of prose!” Webster snaps, but he doesn’t look up from the papers Penkala handed to him. He shuffles them in his hands, smoothing out the creases.

"I mean this is..." Joe flips through the pages with a slightly hysterical laugh. "You were... They were right, you were stupid over me." The words are cruel but Liebgott sounds so damn mystified that Babe doesn't think there's anything behind them but pure shock. Still, he's expecting Webster to take them poorly.

Instead he hardly seems to hear them.

"You wrote _poetry_." His tone is amused but his eyes are soft as he looks over the papers in his hands at Liebgott.

Liebgott’s head snaps and he stares at Webster. “What?”

Webster waves the sheets of paper in his hands. “This is your handwriting,” he says, “You wrote poetry. About me.”

“It’s not-! Honestly, what the fuck-," Liebgott splutters, even as his eyes go wide with recognition and he makes a grab for the sheets, "It’s not poetry! I was just ranting.”

“It reads like poetry,” Webster says quietly, sounding impressed to Babe’s ears, and maybe Liebgott hears the same because he flushes and gives up his attempts to snatch the paper back.

“It’s not,” he says weakly, “I’m not a poetry guy.”

 “Sure. You don’t write poetry and you don’t like me.” Webster is slowly starting to smile. “Except for how it’s pretty clear and in your handwriting that the opposite is true."

“Fuck off, it’s just words,” Liebgott protests. “And it’s nothing compared to the mushy crap you wrote.”

“Words are important,” Webster says. “You said all that stuff about me and to me, about not caring, but these are your private thoughts. Why would you lie to yourself?

Liebgott huffs. “Well… so what if I did? What are you going to do about it?”

"Since I'm the one of us with manners,” Webster says slowly, “It seems like the only decent thing I could do is ignore all the stupid stuff you said and ask if you want to make a second try at that date?”

“Yeah, well maybe I will say yes - but only because _this,_ ” Liebgott waves the notebook, “proves that you would be heartbroken if I didn't and I wouldn't want you to be."

"You wouldn't want me suffering for you?" Webster says, sounding victorious. "Well that's confirmation if ever I heard it."

“Confirmation that I’m a generous guy,” Joe retorts, “Sure. And I appreciate your gratitude.”

Webster throws his hands up in frustration, "Oh for- will you ever...?" he snaps, then apparently loses it completely, as he grabs Liebgott by the collar and kisses him.

Liebgott immediately clutches at Webster's shoulders, leaning in until their bodies are flush and-

Babe averts his eyes sharply, casting about the room until they alight upon Gene who looks amused by this incredibly strange development. And he keeps smiling at Babe as he walks over.

“Saw you talking to Bill earlier,” he says.

“Yeah, I got an apology out of him for sticking his nose in in an asshole way,” Babe says. “Not for sticking his nose in in general, but that would’ve been a bit much to hope for from Bill.”

“Same,” Gene says, “He found me earlier and said he knew he’d been an ass and he’d make it up to me.”

“Make it up to you how?” Babe wonders, because what could Bill have that Gene would want.

“He answered a question I had,” Gene explains, “Edward.”

Babe jerks to stare at him. That hated name sounds almost melodious with Gene’s thick accent wrapped around it, suddenly after years of trying to erase it from the collective memory of his social circle he finds himself wanting to hear it again. But if Gene really had Bill offering to owe him a favour it made no sense for Gene to squander that on a stupid question about Babe, and Babe says as much.

Gene shrugs. “I guess I’m curious about you,” he says, “And it wasn’t just one question.”

“Oh?” Babe says, trying to sound casual but failing even to his own ears. “You had other questions.”

Gene nods, something like mischief on his face. “Yes. And Bill gave me some very interesting answers.”

Babe’s stomach flips and he has to remind himself that, recent misadventures aside, he trusts Bill and Bill surely wouldn’t have said anything too bad about him. Still, “You don’t want to believe everything that Bill says. He’s got a funny imagination and I’m pretty sure sometime he forgets what actually happened versus what he made up.”

“Well maybe we could get coffee sometime, and you could give me your out answers to the questions,” Gene says.

That sounds nice. Possibly too nice. It’s perfectly possible to get coffee in a friendly way, but it’s not going to do Babe’s crush any favours and he knows he shouldn’t.

He starts to shake his head, but Gene interrupts him. “I don’t get attracted to people I don’t know,” Gene says, “But I like what I know of you, and I’d like to know you better.”

Oh. _Oh._ “Sure, coffee,” Babe says, too fast, but there’s hope sparking in his belly that’s fanned to a real furnace of heat when Gene smiles and twists his fingers with Babe’s.

Over in the middle of the room Liebgott and Webster are still plastered against each other, and Babe wishes somebody would tell them to take it up to Webster’s room, or at least find a goddamn corner, but it seems everyone is as determined as he is to give them a wide berth and nothing short of a bomb going off is going to pull their attention to anything but each other.

Averting his eyes just means that his gaze lands on Bill, who is looking highly suspicious as he whispers in the ear of a frustrated looking Joe Toye. For all that it’s been less than half an hour since Babe and Bill got things squared away between them, he can’t help but feel a little wary of exactly what Bill might be saying.

"Hey, Luz, the indie cinema in town in showing a star wars marathon next week, and I thought you’d be into that,” Bill comments, “It was selling out fast but I grabbed a couple of tickets.”

“Yeah that sounds cool,” Luz says warily. “But you don’t like Star Wars. Or have you finally seen the light?”

"No, I still don't, but Joe here does," says Bill, clapping Joe on the shoulder. "So I thought it would make a fun date for the two of you."

Luz laughs. “Joe wouldn’t want to go on a date with me.”

There’s a pause. Toye pulls a face that makes it look like he might be in physical pain. Bill is grinning. For Babe, the penny drops.

Luz still looks amused although it slips away into a confused frown as he slowly notices that nobody else is laughing. “Is this some sort of plan to get back at me for trying to push other people into relationships without thinking – because you’re hardly innocent yourself Bill, and dragging Joe into it makes you as bad as I was.”

Bill rolls his eyes. "I'm not the one who has been swearing revenge on you," he points out, then glances over to where Webster and Liebgott are intertwined, "And lucky for you the current biggest threat to your continued existence is preoccupied… very much so."

"Hey, all's well that ends well," Luz says, glancing over at them with a shrug, "Or at least I think that's how it goes and I'm not going to interrupt _that_ to ask Webster."

Babe can't help but agree with that particular sentiment although he wishes somebody would interrupt them - they seem like they're on the verge of doing something he is (and always will be) too young to see.

"So do you want to come?" Luz asks Toye. "I mean not as a date or anything obviously, but Bill has tickets and... we're cool, right?"

"No," Toye says and Luz flinches like he's just been slapped. It's a cold response. Babe can certainly understand Joe being embarrassed, and annoyed at Bill for putting him in this position, even frustrated with Luz’s obliviousness - but to reject his friendship verges on cruel. “But I’d go with you as a date.”

Babe watches as Luz’s eyes go wide, then narrow in suspicion, before widening again as he finally catches on to what Bill had apparently known for years and Babe had figured ou, if only moments ago. “ _I’m_ the person you like?” He shakes his head. “ _What_?”

Joe sighs and something deep down in Babe tells him that Joe’s about to shut all of this down with a ‘nevermind’ before George even has the chance to process what he’s heard. “Even I noticed that,” Babe calls out, deciding not to mention that he’d figured it out only minutes before Luz.

“Right…” Luz faintly, still sounding like he doesn’t quite believe it as he looks Toye up and down and then says, “Huh. You and me. That’s… damn, I _am_ an idiot.”

Bill is nodding like a screw might’ve come loose in his neck, but fortunately both Toye and Luz don’t seem to be paying him a great deal of attention anymore.

“So… Star Wars?” Toye says.

Babe doesn’t get when he sounds so nervous when the answer is written all over Luz’s face long before he says, “When have I ever said no to Star Wars.”

"I told him," Bill remarks. "Luz was never going respond to suave because he needs everything short of a literal sign before he'd fucking figure that shit out. Fuck knows how he managed matchmaking when he's such an idiot about that stuff."

Bill looks more smug that Babe things he entirely deserves to be, but his plan does seem to have gone off without a hitch, which is more than could be said for any of the other matchmaking efforts that had occurred. Babe stares around the room and watches the populations of two houses mingling together, talking and laughing and dancing without a hint of tension. As first impressions go, the one that college had made had been pretty intense, but on balance he thinks he's gonna like it here.

“Hey, Malarkey,” Liebgott hollers across the room, finally tearing himself away from Webster, “Turn the fucking music up!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading, and I hope you've enjoyed this as much as I enjoyed writing it. :)


End file.
